Infinity Keeps Me Alive
by slayst
Summary: Becoming immortal, or rather, undying... that had been unexpected. Dying immediately after... well, it sucked, but he had taken an Avada to the chest, so no surprises there. But working with Riddle for all eternity? Screw that and screw you space-time continuum, he'd rather move to Antarctica... or, if possible, just prevent this mess in the first place.
1. Infinity Inc

Welcome, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive",_ a take on the old 'Harry Potter dies and goes back in time' trope.

I hope you'll have a good time reading this.

 _I thought it was over?  
_

* * *

Infinity Inc.

* * *

"You're dead, Mr. Potter." smiled a suit-wearing twenty-something years old tanned brunette, seated behind a nondescript black desk in an otherwise empty white room. "Congratulation and welcome back to Infinity Incorporated."

"Huh..."

Yeah, he had nothing.

Seventeen years old Harry James Potter had willingly walked in front of a killing curse five seconds ago, having already accepted his fate with nothing but calm acceptance, so being dead wasn't exactly a surprise.

Opening his eyes to an immaculate office in what had to be the afterlife was.

"But being dead doesn't make us savages." said the woman, an inviting smile on her face. "Go ahead, take a seat."

"… thanks." babbled the wizard, plopping down in a chair he could swore hadn't been there before.

"You're most welcome." she replied. "Now, I remember it being quite destabilising at first, but be assured that it shouldn't last more than a few decades."

"A few decades?"

Had he heard that right?

"It's a rather crude estimation, but yes." she nodded. "Employees of your level usually manage to get over their mortal life in twenty to thirty-odd years."

Employees? Level? Get over their mortal life?

"What the heck are you talking about?" whispered the deceased wizard, extremely perplexed.

"Your internship, Mr. Potter." she explained, as if it was obvious.

"I… don't understand."

He truly didn't.

"Right, no memories." she sighed. "Do you remember one Xenophilius Lovegood telling you how gathering the Deathly Hallows would supposedly make one the Master of Death? Well, it is accurate… in a fashion."

Harry felt a sudden and prophetical feeling of dread crawl up his spine.

"The Philosopher's Stone, ambrosia, DNA mutations, fountain of youth, fruits from the tree of life, spiritual ascension through Dzogchen, even self-mutilation into a lich form… all of those things grant a certain level of immortality, undyingness or eternal youthfulness, depending on the case." explained the brunette. "When it comes to the Hallows, they reward their wielder with a level four undyingness, meaning that while you can't die from old age, hunger, thirst, disease or similar situations, you _can_ be killed, as you clearly noted."

"Wait, you're saying that _I_ am the Master of Death?"

At her nod, the wizard frowned.

"That's impossible." he said. "I owned the cloak and touched the stone, but I never got anywhere near the wand."

"And yet, it answers to you."she said "Albus Dumbledore was disarmed by Draco Malfoy, who you later disarmed yourself. The wand is yours, Master of Death."

Harry may be deader that an inferius at the moment, but he still felt his head hurting.

"Right, so I became immortal and got killed in the next ten minutes… fucking great." he growled. "What now? Does my… title mean anything here?"

"Your title is useless." she replied, shaking her head. "But your immortal status matters. You see, the more complete the immortality, the higher position you get to claim in Infinity Inc. A level four undyingness isn't rare per say – I myself obtained a similar rank through soma consumption, hence my position as your personal Grim Reaper – but it's not exactly common either, especially nowadays. Furthermore, seeing as you're the first mortal to successfully gather all three Hallows – what's with the relics being cursed to favour mortal peril – my supervisor has offered to promote the entire package to a third rank post, meaning that should you decide to work for the bureau, you would be able to obtain a managerial position after an established six century training period."

"You… want me to join your company."

"My co-workers and myself would be delighted to welcome you as an employee of Infinity Incorporated, yes." smiled the Indian immortal.

"I would be… Death? Or… a Death, I suppose?"

"Indeed, my assistant for a time, before becoming my immediate supervisor."

It was vaguely disturbing to imagine himself as an embodiment of death, no matter the rank.

"And if I refuse?"

Because that was an option too, right?

"That would leave you with two options… well, one, really. You would be able to remain in the afterlife for the regulatory century, before being send back into the cycle of rebirth with no memories and no guaranty whatsoever of ever regaining a similar immortality."

She didn't seem to like this option.

"And before you jump to conclusion, working with us won't prevent you from visiting your family and friends."

Being reincarnated or working as a Grim Reaper for all eternity, either way, he got to spend several decades with his family…

"What's the catch?"

"There's no –" she started, stopping abruptly at Harry's raised eyebrow.

It seemed to say 'Seriously? Who do you take me for?'

"Damn Seeker's hypersensitive perception." muttered the Death, fidgeting on her seat. "Fine, so there's a… little problem."

"I'm all ear."

"The Hallows are… faulty." she explained. "They've never been gathered before, so the issue was overlooked, but they have locked onto your soul… and Tom Riddle's horcrux."

Silence fell in the office.

"What?"

"Horcruxes are a level eight form of eternal youth, bottom of the ladder, debugging and coffee duty. He would probably weasel out of it and ask for a reincarnation, but the soul piece in your scar was unwillingly elevated to a level three rank and I can't really see him refusing a position of power."

"Can't you just… force him into the reincarnation cycle?"

"Free will." she sighed. "We have to make the offer and respect his answer, even if the bureau would rather avoid having an insane horcrux as a manager. Not that he would be able to do anything here, but…"

Voldemort standing on the third highest march of the Afterlife… yep, that would be troublesome.

"And if the position is filled, he'll be demoted?"

"No, the rank one executives will either create another post… or make you work with him."

"HELL NO!"

"A perfectly understandable reaction." nodded the Reaper. "One the administrators happen to agree with, which has prompted them to be a bit more… creative."

"What do you mean?"

"Partial reincarnation." she summarized. "It's not exactly common practice, but we can bend time and send you back, let you relive your life. Then it would simply be a matter of expelling the soul shard from your scar prior to your death."

Right… simple.

"And this time, you'll get to keep your memories."

"… this time?"

"This is our third encounter, Mr. Potter." smiled the brunette.

What?

No, wait, he didn't think that, he shouted it.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, this is your third death." she repeated. "Twice already have we send you back, hoping for a different result, but you somehow still manage to face Riddle in the Forbidden Forest. Strange, isn't it?"

Yeah… strange.

He'd died.

He'd become immortal and DIED!

Three freaking times!

In a row!

"WHAT THE F–"

"No need to be so crass." she cut him. "Now, about this partial reincarnation…"

Harry tried to glare her to death, to no avail.

"Inserting you into the timeline requires an emotionally strong life-changing moment, your parent's death being the first available point. It was thankfully established, during our previous interactions, that Mr. Rubeus Hagrid's introduction to the Wizardry World made for an adequate substitute and gave you a greater range of events to influence."

"But, if you erased my memories… how was I supposed to influence anything?"

"Your memories were repressed, not erased." she corrected. "Hidden from you, but not from the Sorting Hat."

"And that helped… how?"

"The Hat follows a strict set of rules, Mr. Potter." she replied. "The most important ones being that he's unable to reveal what he sees in a student's head – even to said student, in cases such as yours – can resort anyone that would so require and can't resort a student in a previously abandoned House without direct approval from the Headmaster. Sadly for you, partial reincarnation doesn't fool Hogwarts and your previous sortings register on the Hat."

Wait, did she mean…?

"When you first came to me, you were a Hufflepuff." she smiled sadly. "Probably due to your desire to have friends and a proper family."

A family huh…?

It must have been nice.

"During your second life, the Hat sent you to Ravenclaw, to try and get you out of your shell through knowledge and the wonders of magic."

Yeah, he could see the logic.

"Then came your latest incarnation, Gryffindor." she grinned. "Reckless, passionate, chivalrous, not overly social but always true to yourself… that one was spot-on."

Harry most definitely _didn't_ roll his eyes.

"Which now leaves you with a… rather limited number of options."

"Slytherin."

"Slytherin." she confirmed, suddenly sounding quite grave. "Your last chance to solve this whole situation while lying low, after which you'll have to use another anchorage point or watch the Hat reveal your time traveller status to the entire school."

"I could let you deal with Tom." pointed out the frowning wizard. "Rejoin the cycle."

"But you won't." deadpanned the tanned Death. "It wasn't your style when you were in Hufflepuff, it barely took me two minutes to convince you when you were a Ravenclaw and it definitely wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor attitude."

She was right.

Harry silently cursed his saving-people-thing.

"Fine, I'll do it." he said through clenched teeth.

"Excellent." she beamed, producing a thin dossier from a drawer. "This is the contract we agreed upon after your first death, appropriately modified to negate the usual memory repression."

The undying wizard grabbed the offered documents and perused through them for a few minutes.

With a satisfied nod, he asked his Death for a pen.

"There you go." she presented the aforementioned writing implement, along with several other sheets of paper. Duplicates? "You'll need to sign here, here... date plus 'read and approved' here and here... now fill this, three times… I said three time and don't you start sighing, Mr. Potter… aaaand you're done, thank you."

Freed from the evil paperwork from the afterlife – no wonder Voldy would weasel out of his horcrux level job – Harry asked the big question.

"So, what now?"

"Now Infinity Inc. has the pleasure to send you back there." smiled the immortal woman. "Get rid of your freeloader and remember, deep breaths."

"What do you mean by..."

He never got to finish his sentence.


	2. A New Beginning

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Aw, that's just great._

* * *

A New Beginning

* * *

It was an ideal day in the little shack, lost on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean.

Except that it was close to midnight, the sun had long since set, wind was blowing, rain poured on the uneven shelter and the air could freeze a Dementor to the bones.

It was a perfect setting for the awakening of a certain recently revived, un-undead undying and soon-to-be wizard.

"HAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Except for the fact that said wizard was completely unaware of that marvellous setting, being way too busy ripping his vocal cords out and waking up the whole neighbourhood.

Thankfully, said neighbourhood consisted of only one Petunia Dursley, her husband Vernon and their son Dudley, plus one well-known soon-to-be wizard – who couldn't possibly be awaken by his own shouts – and a half-giant Keeper of Keys and Ground – who was already awake and presently knowing on, if not downright kicking down the front door.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FREAK?" yelled Vernon, barging into the room, loaded rifle n hand.

Petunia was following him and immediately threw her arms around her frightened son as the shack shook more and more under Hagrid's assault.

Harry's rational mind – which had been momentarily deactivated by the time travel – waited for the poor door to come crashing on the floor to remember and register his Death's advice. The boy then forced himself to take deep, exaggeratedly long breathes as his oldest friend walked into the hut.

A friend he'd seen in shackles not so long ago, bleeding and hurt.

"Hey there, you wouldn't happen to have some tea around, would you?" smiled his future Care of Magical Creature Professor. "The journey was… difficult."

Merlin, it was good to see him.

* * *

Hagrid's arrival upon the little shack in the middle of the night had been memorable. Yes, upon. For someone of the Keeper of Keys and Ground's stature, it wasn't enough to 'arrive at', you had to 'arrive upon', for it had way more impact.

It surely had on the Dursleys.

Anyway, it had gone as Harry remembered it, maybe even a little better. He'd done his utmost best to appear dumb enough for his relatives and the half-giant to lose their calm – his scream had certainly helped with the formers – and things had gone down the drain. Not only had Dudley ended up with a pig tail, Vernon had gained a snout to go with it.

Glorious.

The night had then gone without issues, except for its abrupt end caused by the Daily Prophet's owl delivering Hagrid's newspaper. Harry had hurried to pay her, hopping to go back to sleep for a few more minutes afterwards.

He had failed miserably.

The half-giant had awoken quickly and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron, where the eagerly following wizard-to-be had immediately set eyes upon Professor Quirinus bloody _Quirrell,_ _willing host of Tom Marvolo Riddle aka_ _Lord no-freaking-nose_ _Voldemort_ _ _.__

The desire to murder the man and his puppeteer on the spot had been great enough for Harry to reach for his wand, only to encounter utter emptiness.

No wand yet, damn war instincts!

Mentally cursing the dark sorcerers to hell and back – for lack of actual cursing – he'd opted for a cold rage. He would have to schedule a cleansing of this filth of a teacher at a later date, hopefully one soon to come.

And now, here he was.

"Welcome Harry, to Diagon Alley."

Hagrid, always theatrical, but could the resurrected man – boy, he was a boy now – ask for a better introduction to the heart of the Wizardry World?

With the numerous shops, the ambient magic and the new generations raiding it on every school year, the Alley definitely was that heart. But more important than the Wizardry World's heart, there stood its weak-spot... Gringotts' Bank.

Walking up the street, the two half-bloods soon reached the white walls of the goblins' stronghold.

Having seen it from the inside-out, guards and dragons included, Harry was glad that the goblins were content with handling currencies rather than armies. He had no doubt that the small yet vicious race was more than capable to raze England to the ground.

"Gringotts." breathed out Hagrid.

Entering the building, the Keeper pointed at a guard.

"That's a goblin. Stay close, don't speak until they allow you to and whatever you do, don't show your teeth, it's disrespectful."

He then walked up to the counter and greeted the employee.

"Morning. We've come to take some money out of Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"Mr. Potter huh?"

The goblin eyed Harry closely for a few seconds, before hopping down his stool and making his way to them.

"If Mr. Potter would be so kind as to follow me. We need to verify a few issues."

That was new… and potentially risky.

It wasn't his first jump through time, so what could have triggered that unexpected divergence? Could it have been his memories? Did him remembering his previous life somehow show on Gringotts' wards or something? Were the little buggers about to stab him to death with those spears of theirs for robbing Bella's vault?

"Oh... huh, fine. Come Harry."

"No sir, you misunderstood. We want to speak to Mr. Potter."

The half-giant smiled.

"That's fine."

"Alone."

Hagrid's face fell.

"But... I'm not supposed to leave him alone."

He looked torn.

He was following Dumbledore's orders here, and now someone was asking him to override them. He couldn't do that. But he couldn't refuse either, it was well within the goblins' rights to request a meeting with Harry…

Harry watched the man become more and more fidgety, obviously struggling to find an answer he himself didn't have – or knew for sure that he wanted to find out.

However, the goblin quickly took pity on the half-giant, stopped to look scarily at the tall man and bowed ever so slightly.

"I assure you, in the name of the goblin nation, that no harm will be done to your charge, Keeper."

Harry was only mildly reassured.

Hagrid sighed, before resigning himself and bowing back.

"Please, be quick."

"We shall."

* * *

The frighteningly silent goblin soon led an increasingly paranoid Harry deeper and deeper into the bank, taking turns every few seconds in a maze of tunnels, ultimately reaching a massive door guarded by two heavily armoured sentries.

The stone doors opened slowly and Harry's guide invited him to go ahead alone.

The young wizard thus set foot in an office where the walls, desk, chairs and books-cases were entirely made of polished white stone.

Two goblins were present.

The one he recognised was the sword-stealing and backstabbing Griphook, his account manager. The second one he knew nothing about, but the small being wore an air of nobility, respect and dangerousness… that goblin was undoubtedly a predator.

Presented with a chair by a mere hand swing, Harry politely sat and tried to appear as relaxed as possible as he prepared himself to dodge any incoming projectile.

That's when he registered that the two goblins seemed not only dead serious, but also… strangely amused.

What the hell was going on here?

"Mister Potter, thank you for answering our invitation." began the unknown goblin. "I'm Bank Manager Ragnok."

The bank manager? Wasn't he the king of the goblin nation, or at least the local warlord or something? He was pretty sure that Binns had mentioned it one day… or had it been Hermione?

"And this is Griphook, administrator of the Potter account."

Something he'd never been told before, what a _pleasant_ surprise. The urge to skewer the thief returned full force.

Swallowing his anger, Harry forced himself to bow.

"Pleased to meet you."

Not a simple matter when you were already seating… and as jumpy as a bloody sphinx.

"Now that the introductions are over, let's get down to business."

Ragnok eyes became piercing and the wizard tensed a bit further, expecting an attack.

"Mr. Potter, the goblin nation is hereby informing you that you'll appear as a seventeen years old to any magical scan conducted, until your physical body reaches that age once again. As it is, Gringotts would now want to know the steps you would like to take regarding your legal status in the Wizardry World."

Harry's eyes almost popped out of his head, the goblins simply smiled.

Well, shit!

"Worry not Mr. Potter, your deal with Infinity Inc. is of no concern to us. As long as you're not making yourself an enemy of the goblin nation, we shall leave you alone."

They knew about the time travel, but not about the vault robbing? Not that he minded, but how was it working exactly? And had he heard the goblin say… Infinity Inc.?

"How do you –"

"Know of them?" finished Ragnok, his grin turning positively ravening. "We're more aware of the ways of the world than what the wizards give us credit for, Mr. Potter."

 _ **Infinity Inc. formally ask Bank Manager Ragnok, and by extension Gringotts, to stay silent regarding Mr. Potter's situation.**_

Of course, his condition being found out by an entire race wasn't enough, his Death had to hijack the conversation with a booming disembodied voice.

Harry sighed, barely comforted by Gryphook's comically panicked bounce.

"Silent we shall be." replied a stoic Ragnok, looking at the ceiling.

 _ **Infinity Inc. thank you for your thoughtfulness. May your vault flow with gold.**_

"May your enemies be crushed." replied the goblin.

The resulting silence stretched out for a few seconds before Ragnok cleared his throat.

"Now Mr. Potter, about your legal status…"

* * *

Lord... he was a bloody Lord.

A few documents signed with a blood quill, an official claim for the title, an oath on the family magic and name to always abide by its rules, and there he was. Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, emancipated – which came with a whole lot of advantages – and in full rights to claim a chair in the Wizengamot. Not that he would do so until he absolutely had too, he still had a cover to maintain after all. Anyway, not bad at only eleven.

Okay, so he'd had to live to seventeen and die three time to enjoy it, but was it that important?

"Lord Potter, now that the matter of your status has been resolved, we need to discuss one last affair."

There was more?

"This is the full list of your family's assets, various investments in stores and companies, both magical and muggle." explained Ragnok, offering a two feet long parchment he'd just retrieved from his subordinate. "As you can see, none of the properties are referenced, Potter Manor having been largely destroyed during the raid that claimed your grandparents lives whereas your parent's house in Godric's Hollow was claimed as a historical monument by the Ministry of Magic."

Goblins sure had a way to dump life-changing news on you.

"Those are mine?"

"They should, unless your parents' wills state otherwise." he nodded. "Which is what I must enquire of you now. Their wills have been sealed by your former magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore. As legal adult and Head of your family, you now possess the authority to overrule this decision."

His parents' wills. Why had he never been informed about them?

"How do I do that?"

"You merely have to give us your approval." answered the bank manager, presenting a sheet of paper covered in runes. "If you would be so kind as to put you hand there and read that phrase aloud..."

"It will be my pleasure. Huhum... I, Lord Harry James Potter, hereby allow Griphook of the Goblin Nation, Manager of the Potter Estate, to open and execute the wills of James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans."

A tingling sensation spread across his palm and a full hand-print appeared on the document. Satisfied, Ragnok snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared on his desk, seemingly materializing out of thin air.

"This is a magical transcript of the wills." he informed, presenting Harry with the thick scroll. "You're free to keep it. The originals will be kept in the family vault and read before audience at a later date. We will prepare this gathering and owl you in due time."

"Thank you."

"Gringotts pride itself on its customer service." replied the goblin, grinning. "Now, can we be of any further assistance or is our business completed?"

Harry paused.

The bank was renowned for its curse-breakers, right? Could they possibly have a way to deal with his scar, despite horcruxes being a nasty and obscure piece of magic?

It wouldn't hurt to ask.

"… there is one thing." admitted the wizard. "What do you know of… horcruxes?"

Griphook and Ragnok shared a look and turned back to him.

"Not a thing, I'm afraid."

So much for that idea.

"Then perhaps have you heard of a lich's phylactery? It's quite common in muggle fiction."

The goblins' eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You are talking about soul magic."

"I am." he nodded. "Horcruxes are anchors, binding an undead witch or wizard to the material plain through an act of murder."

"What do you seek from Gringotts?" growled Ragnok.

He seemed… pissed, for some reason.

Was he perhaps expecting Harry to ask for his help creating an horcrux?

"A mean to destroy or exorcize several such devices."

"… I see."

Judging from his relaxing stance, he probably had.

"I presume you know of the items' locations? And a mean to destroy them?"

"Well, at the moment, the closest would be my scar." admitted the wizard.

The bankers barely glanced at his forehead.

"Then there's Helga Hufflepuff's cup, stolen from the Smith family and stored in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault –"

Sharp intakes of breath.

"– Salazar Slytherin's locket is kept by an… interesting house elf in the Blacks' ancestral home, Voldemort's school years diary stands in Lucius Malfoy's dark collection, the Gaunts' ring is buried underneath their old shack in Little Hangleton and Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem is hidden in a secret room in Hogwarts." he enumerated. "They can be destroyed with Basilisk venom or Fiendfyre, but…"

"You seek another way."

"I'd rather not die, yes."

The manager seemed to ponder his words for a moment, stroking his chin.

"… you're putting Gringotts in a rather uncomfortable situation." he concluded, sighing. "Most of the places you listed are simply inaccessible for us, with perhaps the exception of the Gaunt shack."

"And Bella's vault?"

"We're not supposed to know what is stored by our clients." denied Ragnok. "Entering that vault and retrieving the cup would be a breach of our contracts with the Ministry."

"Can't Lord Black simply claim the cup back?"

"Not if the cup wasn't part of Miss Lestrange's dowry, no."

"… what if she died?"

"Her possession would then be distributed between Rodolphus Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

After them, it would go to Rabastan, Lucius, Draco and only then to Andromeda or Sirius. Meaning that if he wanted to _legally_ put his hands on the cup, it would take one hell of a lot of _illegal_ homicides.

"Besides, there is no Lord Black as the only candidate is currently –"

"In Azkaban, under false charges of murder. Something I plan to rectify soon."

The bankers' eyes grew wide.

"Are you certain of Mr. Black's innocence?" stammered his family manager.

"Positive."

The goblins cursed, before quickly conversing in their native language.

"I will see to it." finally said Griphook, rising from his seat. "Lord Potter, it was a pleasure."

"Likewise."

'you backstabbing bastard.' went unsaid.

The oblivious goblin smiled and left the room.

"This is going to be a political nightmare." sighed Ragnok. "But we appreciate the heads-up."

"You're welcome."

"Now, in regards to your cleansing, I'm afraid that Gringotts is once again unable to help you." carried on the remaining banker. "Our curse-breakers have never encounter an horcrux before and though we do have a ritual that could work on a phylactery, it would be unwise to use it on a living subject."

"Couldn't it be modified?"

"I suppose it could..." he acknowledged. "But it would undoubtedly take years, decades perhaps."

Decades that he didn't have.

He would either have to find something else or ask for that ritual and work on it himself.

"I will… take my leave and think this through." nodded the wizard. "Thank you for your time, Bank Manager Ragnok."

What had Infinity Inc. said earlier?

Oh, yes, something like…

"May your vault flow with gold."

"May your enemies be crushed, Lord Potter." smiled Ragnok. "Come, I will accompany you back to the great hall, your guardian has waited long enough."

* * *

"So, first year right?"

"Yes mam."

"He'll need standard issue robes, plus winter ones and a hat." weakly said Hagrid from the door.

"Sir, I've supplied Hogwarts for years, don't you ever question my expertise." warned Madam Malkin.

Thankfully, the door closed on the Keeper before he could muster an answer. Still, Harry couldn't resent him for being out of it. Between falling asleep in the bank's hall and being shaken to death in the cart, you had to wonder how the poor lad wasn't sick yet.

"Now come dear, let's see what I have for you." carried on the squat woman, dragging Harry by the arm and dumping him on a footstool, right next to... oh no.

"You're starting Hogwarts too, right?" asked a clear voice.

Damn it.

With all the time he had spent in the bank, he had been sure to avoid Malfoy Jr. for the day. Not that he was actively avoiding him, it was just a happy accident. But the cosmos had a twisted sense of humour as proved his current stool-neighbour.

"I'm Daphne. Daphne Greengrass." provided the girl, offering her hand.

There was no escaping Slytherins, apparently.

Well, screw you too cosmos.

"And you are?"

Of every wizard and witch in magical Britain, he just had to walk into the bloody Ice Queen, the one girl with distinctive shoulder-length curled blond hair and piercing steel grey eyes whose words could control the entire Slytherin House more efficiently than Draco's whimpers ever could.

Not that she'd ever done so, mind you. He'd just always believed that she had a… presence of sort, something that made others look up to her, despite her icy personality.

Well, no time to whine. He had to make a good first impression on his future housemate, a reeeally good one.

The witch's eyes went wide when, instead of accepting the handshake, Harry bowed lightly and planted a small kiss on her hand. When the wizard brought his head back up, he was smiling devilishly at her, the same way he'd seen Sirius do sometimes.

"I'm Harry James Potter, but my friends call me Harry. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Greengrass."

She eyed him for an instant, partly shocked partly calculating, before replying in a much more formal and somewhat pleased tone than before.

"A shared pleasure, Mr. Potter."

Was that genuine?

Harry honestly didn't know, but he assumed that his attempt at a proper Slytherin behaviour – the exact opposite of Draco's usual boasting, basically – had worked, because Daphne was now sporting a completely unexpected – and honestly unnerving – smile.

The wizard found himself wondering how the friendly – and somewhat adorable – witch before him had turned into the indifferent, frozen beauty he remembered.

"All done dear." chirped happily the young woman adjusting Daphne's robe, cutting short Harry's train of thought.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts then." said the witch, voice oddly warm.

Harry replied just as cheerily.

"I surely hope so."

Slytherin…

He was going to be busy.


	3. Wand-Lore

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Do you want to make a wand?_

* * *

Wand-Lore

* * *

Ollivander's was just as dusty, wet and gloomy as ever. It would have send shivers down the spine of any first-year coming to get their first wand.

Harry gathered seven years' worth of Gryffindor courage and went deeper into the place, reaching for the reception desk.

"Good afternoon."

Seven years ago, Harry had jumped. He would deny until his fourth death that he had just done so again.

"Hello Mr. Ollivander."

The old man walked calmly toward Harry.

"Ah yes, yes, yes. I thought I'd see you soon Mr. Potter. You have..."

"My mother's eyes, I know."

The old wand-maker smiled weakly, taking a few more steps.

"It seems only yesterday she entered herself to buy her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, willow, perfect for charms. As for your father's..."

Mahogamy, eleven inches, more powerful and better suiting transfiguration. He remembered it, like everything he had ever heard about his parents.

"it was an eleven inches mahogamy wand, more powerful and excellent for transfiguration."

Ollivander took one last step. It was one too much for Harry's comfort as the man started to eye his scar, his face barely five inches from Harry's.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful, especially in the wrong hands. Well, let's move on, there's no reason to live in the past."

Oh, if only he knew.

"Now, which is your wand-arm?"

Harry hold out his right arm. The measuring tapes immediately started to work on their own.

Silence stretched for a moment.

"Excuse me sir, but... what are you measuring exactly?"

Ollivander smiled widely.

"Nothing of importance."

Wh… what?

"I can't choose a wand for you, as wands choose their wizards, but it doesn't mean that I can't narrow down the options. The measurements in themselves are pretty much useless, but they allow me to see how one acts. Every twitch, every word you say, every look you give in this shop is like a personality test. In the end, I'm only matching your own actions with the wands' attributes."

Well, that was anticlimactic. The best wand-maker this side of Europe had just admitted to being some kind of shrink, so much for wand-lore being an out-of-this-world mystical profession.

"Strangely enough, you're only the fifth person to ever ask that question. The last one, Mr. Potter, was a young muggle-born witch named Lily Evans. Funny how things are repeating themselves, don't you think?"

"Mom..."

"It seems curiosity run in your veins. Your wand's attributes should be interesting."

"Attributes sir?"

Ollivander walked up to the shelves and start rummaging through boxes.

"Why, yes. You see Mr. Potter, wands have three important attributes. Firstly, the wood. Depending on the wood used for the wand's body, your magic will react differently to the spells you'll use. Your parents' wands were good for charms and transfiguration because they were made of willow and mahogamy respectively."

Did that mean that Tom's yew wand had a thing for executions, pointless gloating and generalized chaos?

"Secondly comes the length." continued the old wizard. "It can affect the casting speed, but mostly only matters for charged or maintained spellwork. The longer the wand, the easier it'll be for you to concentrate magic for overpowering curses or spell-weaving wards."

Harry mused that Durmstrang's students had to be very talented at wards, with their full-length wizard staves.

"And finally, you've got the core." concluded Ollivander. "Every wand uses a powerful magical substance as a core. Many things can be used, but the most common in England are unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers and dragon heartstrings. Despite what people think, the core is the minor element here, each substance being from highly magical races with roughly the same potency. At least that's true for the initial pairing. Once you'll begin to use it, your magic will leave a mark on the core, an encroachment that will make it attuned with you. If you ever lose your wand and buy another with the same attributes, your new one will perform slightly worse for some time, until you mark it too. This also explains why you'd have a hard time using someone else's wand, as it would be attuned to another magical signature."

Except for the Elder Wand.

"That's fascinating."

"It is, isn't it?"

The wand -maker put down an armful of wand-boxes on his desk. At the same moment, Harry decided that he preferred to be ahead of schedule.

"May I ask a few questions, sir?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter. Here, wave this wand."

"Can several wands come from the same tree?"

A curse was heard through the door. Harry could have sworn it had been Avery's voice.

"Not that one then. And yes, but those wands will always be of different sizes. Besides, this common ancestry has no real magical meaning. Try this one."

The shop filled with darkness.

Ollivander dissipated it before snatching the wand away.

"Definitely not. Maybe this one."

Time to shake things up.

"What about the cores?"

A wave and ice formed on the walls.

"No. What about them?"

"Can you use several heartstrings from a single dragon or are each core from a different animal?"

Just one little question. A perfectly legitimate one for an eleven years old boy.

"A fascinating question. Try this one."

Ollivander's hairs turned to moss but he quickly reverted it.

"Still no. Why such curiosity?"

Harry replied honestly. At least, he appeared to be honest. He definitely wasn't.

"You just said it, I'm curious. My aunt raised me and I'm new to this whole magic thing."

How else was he supposed to explain that he was preventing the old man from being kidnapped several years from now?

Ollivander opened his mouth to answer and suddenly went rigid. The wand he was about to present was a mere few inches from Harry's hand. The old man remained silent but started to steal glances behind him, to a section of the shelves Harry knew housed his former wand.

"I wonder..."

Pushing every failed attempt aside, the wand-maker hurried back to the shelves and retrieved a box. A very specific one.

He took the just as singular wand out and handed it over to the young wizard.

"Here, try this one."

The shop turned into a light-show, five times the scale of what it had been seven years ago.

Ollivander hadn't been prepared for that however. He gasped loudly and stared into thin air like a fish out of water.

A minute went by.

And another one.

And another one.

"Sir?"

That was enough to wake him up.

"Oh, yes. Excellent power, stunning even. But how curious... how very curious..."

"What is it sir?"

"I didn't answer your question Mr. Potter, but multiple cores can indeed come from a single animal." he said nervously. "The wands sharing such a common ancestry are basically brothers and yours just happen to be one. You're wielding an eleven inches holly wand with a phoenix feather for a core. Now Mr. Potter, understand that a phoenix feather unwillingly taken would lose all of its power and that the phoenix whose feather is contained in your wand only accepted to be plucked twice. Until that phoenix decides otherwise, your wand will only ever have one brother."

"What's so curious about that, sir?"

Hey, Harry knew how to play dumb. He _had been_ dumb for several years after all.

"What's curious Mr. Potter, is that single-brother wands are almost unheard of in wand-lore. We're usually talking of seven or eight brother-wands, if not more. I never met an animal more stubborn that this phoenix. But what's even more curious is that your wand's brother took your parents and gave you that scar you wear."

Harry swallowed loudly. He deserved an award for his acting skills.

"As I said, it fell in the wrong hands."

Ollivander was seasoned nicely. Time to cook and serve.

"What would happen if... if I had to face that wand?"

The old wan-maker paled instantly. He was as white as his eyes now.

"Your... your wands are so closely related that they would certainly nullified each-other's assaults, which would be both a blessing and a curse under normal circumstances. But since You-Know-Who has been defeated, your opponent would be incompatible with his already encroached wand and you would have no trouble overpowering him. Still, if that wand was to ever resurface, it would be a dark time for the wizardry world... a very dark time."

He took a deep breath, then another, slowly regaining his composure.

"Well, Mr. Potter, we found your wand. I'm a little tired, so if you would be so kind as to pay, so that I can close early..."

"Oh, sure."

"It will be seven galleons."

Harry had barely put the money on the counter that Ollivander was already shoving him out the door. The old man was thinking about the letter he would write to Dumbledore. He had to be warned about what had transpired here.

Harry took in the sight of Hagrid sleeping on Hedwig's cage, to the owl's growing irritation. She had even started to peck him, but the half-giant didn't seem to register the pain.

The time traveler sighed.

"That went well."


	4. Express

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Allow me to reintroduce myself._

* * *

Express

* * *

Harry's last month at the Dursleys had begun with a small "I, Lord Harry James Potter, hereby ask for my wand to be untraced." He was after all emancipated, recognised as seventeen, and a Lord. Because there was no reason for a trace to monitor someone of age, magic had complied and removed the spell immediately.

Free from this burden, he had started to experiment with his wand, to gauge what he had retained. As stated by the contract Infinity Inc. had had him sign, he'd kept his magical pool from a few days ago, seven years from now. Such large reserves were unheard of in a boy so young and they would only expense with time. It basically meant that he would be an absolute powerhouse, but with the worst control _ever_ … it sucked.

Since he'd retained his full memories, he also remembered a good number of spells and incantations. The sad part was that this body was still malnourished and unused to the wand motions. He would need to build up some muscles and recreate his automatisms. Thankfully, with his relatives avoiding him, or pretending he wasn't even here, he was free to come and go. He used the kitchen as he pleased, and so ate properly.

Reading a few books to freshen up his memory, then practising wand motions before running a little and taking the Knight Bus to the zoo to discreetly practice – and rein in – his parseltongue with the remaining reptiles became his daily routine.

* * *

 _[So, you're going.]_ commented a smooth snake.

 _[I am.]_ confirmed Harry.

It was Saturday 31st August 1991 and tomorrow, the wizard-to-be would board the Hogwarts Express to begin his education – and the various cunning designs he had in mind.

 _[Ten months.]_ sighed an adder.

 _[It's going to be lonely in here.]_ complained another.

 _[I would write, but...]_

 _[We would eat the owl.]_ completed the rare and protected slow worm.

 _[Yeah. That and you can't read.]_

An awkward silence settled in, Harry absentmindedly thanking a passing-by visitor who'd just gave him a coin under the bored look of the gallery's guardian who was, by now, completely accustomed to the boy's hissing.

When he'd first returned to the zoo, the young wizard had been a bit too enthusiastic and forgotten that he wasn't alone. His conversation with a boa had unsurprisingly gathered a curious crowd in mere minutes, making him grow worried that he'd inadvertently screwed up and that some obliviators from the Ministry would come and charge him with underage magic.

But a little girl had soon accosted him, asking how he was hypnotising the snake and Harry had seen an opportunity.

Parseltongue was simply not flashy enough to be considered magical by muggles, so why not go along with it and pretend to charm the reptiles? Snake charmers, though unusual in England, were still more common than parselmouthes.

Nobody would think twice about it, the Status of Secrecy would be safe, plus he was making pocket money without even trying.

The snakes, lizards and iguanas were always grateful for the company and the occasion to speak properly. That Harry was making money on their back was of no importance to them.

 _[Well, you should go before we start getting sentimental and end up being downright sappy.]_ finally advised the second adder.

 _[Right. See you in ten months, everyone.]_

 _[See you, Speaker.]_ replied the reptiles.

* * *

"Uncle Vernon."

"What do you want?"

"I'm off to Hogwarts."

"And? You need a lift?"

Wow, he'd half-expected the fat lump to make a derogative remark.

Was he giving his uncle way too little credit?

"No, I'll take the bus to the train station. I just wanted to warn you."

"Consider me warned." replied Vernon, before grumbling… something.

Harry had to hide his smile at what he was certain had been way beyond R-rated.

That was more like it.

* * *

Getting rid of the Knight Bus' after-effects was proving difficult as Harry stumbled across King Cross toward platform nine and three-quarters.

Nevertheless, he hurriedly got through the portal and boarded the train, eager to save a seat for the friends he would soon meet again. Taking over the first empty compartment he could find, he settled down and reluctantly opened his potion book.

The time travelling wizard still wasn't all that hot for the subject and rustier than a German submarine from WWII. Knowing Snape as he did, he half-expected his future Head of House to hijack the express and harass students with questions.

Ten minutes went by before the compartment door opened, the flaming red of a Weasley's hair coming into view.

Harry had to refrain from hugging one of his best friend.

"Hey, you know where's Harry Potter? I heard he's in the train."

The ever collected Lord Potter felt his jaw open wide.

Okay, what?

His friend clearly hadn't been sent back too, otherwise he would have recognize him… so why? Why was Ron looking for him?

Sure, his date of birth was well known and anyone with half a brain and a basic understanding of muggle mathematics could figure out that he would start this year, but Harry knew Ron Bilius Weasley better than the boy knew himself and the redhead would never _ever_ bother himself with numbers and calculus, except for homework.

Which had to mean that he'd really _heard_ about him being on the train and decided to seek him out, but from who? His parents? Maybe another student?

"Really? Who told you?"

Because it was faster to ask the redhead than to ponder this strange development for the entire ride.

"Some guy on the platform." answered his not-yet friend.

Someone had recognized him in passing then… probably a parent who'd known his father.

"But… why are you looking for Potter?"

And wasn't that the million Galleon question.

"Because we're going to be best pals."

Harry's eyebrow briefly reached escape velocity.

"Really?"

"Sure."

That bragging, bratty grin was definitely fishy.

Especially since the eleven years old had yet to realise that he was talking to his so-called future best pal.

"Well, I'm… new to this whole magic stuff but from what I read, it would help to know a proper wizard, so…" said a rather puzzled Harry, who couldn't for the love of merlin decide if he should or shouldn't let the redhead enter.

"Damn, you're a muggleborn." cursed Ron, before panicking as he suddenly realised what he'd just said. "And it's fine. Being a muggleborn, I mean. Even if you've never used a broom before… and don't know anything about Quidditch… or follow the Cannons, even if you totally should, because they're awesome."

Harry wondered when his old friend would learn to think _before_ opening that thing he called a mouth and came to the sad conclusion that it would only happen when Hermione would herself learn to shut up when it was required… that is to say, never.

"Yeah, huh… I'll just… find someone more useful." stuttered the redhead.

More useful? So, because Harry was supposedly a newcomer, he was virtually useless and incapable of _locating_ Harry Potter?

Merlin, Ron was just a bigoted as Draco sometimes. He may not judge one's blood purity, but if he knew something that you didn't about the Wizardry World, he would still make fun of you, even if he himself made no effort to learn about the muggle world.

What a waste.

"Sure…" replied Harry to the departing eleven years old. "Good luck, I guess?"

He didn't know if he was supposed to cry of catch up to the redhead and bash his thick head against every single window in the Express.

What the hell had happened to his friend?

The young wizard sighed and immersed himself in his book once more, trying to get this bizarre and quite troubling second first encounter out of his mind.

A few minutes later, the door opened again.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for –" began a brunette, stopping when her eyes settled on him. "Found him!"

"No need to yell." called a familiar voice, a blonde witch soon appearing behind the other girl. "Oh, hello Mr. Potter."

"Ms. Greengrass." he greeted her. "And who's you friend?"

"Tracey Davis." replied said future Slytherin, before gesturing to the couch. "Mind if we join you?"

Hallelujah, he was saved from death by potion-induced boredom and brain-melting rumination.

Harry almost hugged the girls, but that would have been rather impolite.

"Please, do." he invited instead, Sirius' trademarked smile on display.

"Thank you." nodded the blonde.

The two witches-to-be entered, placed their trunks underneath the couch and sat across the compartment, Greengrass burying herself into her transfiguration textbook as Davis gazed out the window.

Harry repressed a grumble and, frowning, reluctantly returned to his potion nightmare. Damn potions, damn bat and damn silent witches.

Pages turned and the silence soon became unbearable for the wizard. Not that he didn't enjoy a bit of calm every once in a while, but that business with Ron was quite maddening and he needed to focus on something else – preferably, anything but potions.

"So… what's that book you're reading?"

A~wkwa~rd!

But Harry had always been a rather timid person and time travellers didn't suddenly gain confidence, so he had an excuse… sort of.

Still, he much preferred to look dumb in front of those girls than to read any more of that god-awful book. Hell, he'd rather read the Necronomicon.

"Our transfiguration textbook." politely replied Daphne.

And oddly enough, that was enough to break the ice, the once Golden Boy of Gryffindor and Ice Queen of Slytherin shortly enough exchanging banalities, words flowing out even more easily when Davis finally joined in.

The Mr. and Ms. were rapidly dropped, Harry and Daphne staying on a last name basis – it seemed important to the witch to maintain a certain status – whereas Tracy, not one for formalities, invited him to use her first name.

Before long, the three children – and future housemates – were sharing more and more memories, cementing their building friendship as they rampaged through the mountain of sweets Harry had bought from the passing trolley.

It was an enlightening discussion.

Harry briefly mentioned his upbringing and relatives, downgrading their ill-treatment. It wasn't about being uncomfortable, he had been fine with his childhood for years now, but he didn't need Daphne and Tracey to pity him.

He quickly moved unto his encounter with Hagrid and his discovery of the Wizardry World. It wasn't difficult for him to alter the facts, as he felt the same love and compassion for the half-giant that he had seven years ago.

Tracey then proceeded to explain the rather perilous situation of Thomas Davis, her widower, hard-working, muggle-born Auror father, constantly overworked by the discriminatory Ministry. Consecutively, the young witch had practically been raised alongside Daphne, whose parents once were good friends of her mother.

A half-blood Slytherin, whose only protection and influence came not from her lineage, but from the memories of her dead parent?

It boggled the mind, but the reincarnated wizard had just, somehow, found a kindred spirit in Tracey Davis.

Daphne's turn came next, a small spark lightening up in the blonde girl's eyes. Harry was promptly introduced to the lovely picture of Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's little sister. She was two years younger than the Greengrass heiress and, as every little sister, was just unlawfully cute, when she wasn't unnecessarily annoying.

She had bugged the two girls on a daily basis ever since they'd received their acceptance letters, making both of them promise to write home often.

Apart from Daphne and Astoria, the Greengrasses also consisted of their two parents.

Lord William and Lady Abigail Greengrass were purebloods but had stayed neutral in the war. For this horrid 'betrayal' and the help they provided to Thomas Davis, they were constantly pushed by other pureblood families such as the Malfoys. Their trading business was under heavy pressure but they were still managing brilliantly, had stated Daphne with pride.

After witnessing so many smiles from her, and even a few laughs, Harry was understandably surprised. Never had he expected such a sweet, caring personality behind Daphne Greengrass' usually icy façade.

Well, not usual, more like the one she would use soon. She was a rather dignified girl already, but wasn't on the legendary Ice Queen level yet – _yet_ being the operative word.

The wizard considered this strange development and came to a conclusion he really didn't like.

If Harry had been overly shy and Hermione annoyingly bossy when starting Hogwarts, they at least had had the chance to be sorted in Gryffindor. The House of the braves had allowed them to change, pushing them forward as the conflict with Voldemort grown closer.

But Daphne had ended up in Slytherin.

A neutral pureblood walking among dark wizard wannabes.

She'd somehow been forced to create the Ice Queen persona to keep others at bay, using that coldness as a mask in a House where her every move could have been used against her and her family. As sad as it sounded, she'd essentially locked her emotions away throughout all seven years she'd remained among the snakes, making herself appear untouchable to keep herself and Tracey from harm.

That couldn't possibly be healthy and he was pretty sure that, unless he did something about it, the Ice Queen would soon emerge again.

He REALLY didn't like it.

If only he'd spoken to those two in his previous lifetime, house rivalry be damned, perhaps things would have been different…

* * *

At the time-traveller's enthusiastic request, Daphne had started to explain how purebloods were usually raised. She was reaching the subject of underage magic – which wasn't that unusual in those households and was actually encouraged – when a bushy head entered the compartment.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." asked the bossy yet heart-warming voice of Hermione Granger.

Daphne had tensed when the door had moved, but Hermione's friendly attitude seemed to reassure her and she relaxed slightly.

"No, I can't say I have."

"Same here." added Tracey.

"Why don't you go to the prefects?" asked Harry. "They should know what to do."

He would have tried the _Accio_ charm himself, but his control still sucked and he was fearing for Trevor's life.

The young witch looked sheepishly at her feet.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

That was so Hermione. She was brilliant but could be such an airhead sometimes.

Seeing her embarrassment, Tracey tried to comfort her.

"Don't feel bad about it. You're muggleborn, right?"

"I… I am, why?"

"You're barely familiarising yourself with magic, no one's expecting you to know everything."

Except Snape.

"I know plenty." Hermione defended herself. "I read all the school books."

"You memorized them too?" playfully asked Harry.

"I… I…" she hesitated. "Yes."

Harry smiled and the witch blushed deeply.

"Books are good, but they're not all-knowing. Trust me, nothing's better than first-hand experience."

"And how would you know, Potter?" asked Daphne, raising an eyebrow. "You've been muggle-raised."

"That would be telling, Greengrass." he smirked. "You'll have to figure it out yourself."

"… I hate you."

"She truly doesn't." teased her brunette friend, smiling at the wizard.

A gasp stopped his boasting act.

"Potter? Harry Potter?"

There it was, Hermione's unhealthy fascination for famous and/or historical figures.

"Yes." he answered reluctantly.

"I know all about you."

"You do?" he asked, faking surprise.

"Sure, I... huh..."

Tracey laughed.

"Let me guess, you read it."

And with that, Hermione's eyes returned to her feet.

"In _Modern Magical History_ , _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"I should read them. I'd like to learn what I was up to since Voldemort's defeat."

Hermione shivered. Apparently, she'd heard of Voldy.

"You said his name." whispered Tracey in an astonished voice.

"You do realize it's an alias, right?" frowned Harry. "His parents would have had to be completely bonkers to call him Voldemort."

"Don't say that name." winced the panicked brunette, clearly expecting the dark wizard to somehow materialize out of thin air. " _Nobody_ says that name."

"I can just call him Moldyshorts if it helps." helpfully offered Harry, smirking widely.

Daphne sighed.

"Grow up, would you Potter?" she advised, before steering the discussion back to its original topic. "And don't bother with those books, they're utter garbage."

"Still, they might be fun."

The blonde shrugged and waved her hands around, clear meaning 'Your choice.'

Harry grinned and turned back to his old best friend.

"How about proper introductions? I'm Harry James Potter, but my friends call me Harry. Nice to meet you."

"Daphne Greengrass. Likewise."

"Name's Tracey…" said the slowly recovering brunette. "Tracey Davis."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter, Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Davis. I'm Hermione Granger."

"As I said, my friends call me Harry."

"Tracey's fine too."

The muggleborn blushed.

"I'm fine with Ms. Greengrass."

"Of course you are, Greengrass."

"Shut it, Potter."

"You wish."

Harry would have gladly riled her up for the next thirty minutes, but Hermione prevented it by gasping loudly, remembering why she had entered their wagon in the first place.

"Oh no, Neville. I left him alone."

"Who?" innocently asked the wizard.

"The toad boy." explained Tracey.

"Oh, him."

"I'd better go back. Thank you again."

"What for?"

"Telling me to search for a prefect."

"Ah. Sure, you're welcome."

And without further ado, Hermione disappeared back into the train.

"I like her." commented Tracey.

"Me too." replied Harry.

That earned him raised eyebrows from the remaining witches.

"You teased her throughout the entire conversation." reminded Daphne.

"Your point being?"

She shook her head, smiled and said "You're a weird guy, Potter."

* * *

After Hermione's exit, Harry had been forced to explain why his bushy-haired best friend hadn't been hand-kissed.

"She's probably unaware of pureblood etiquette and would have flattened me. Or one of _you_ would have if I'd done it. Wasn't worth the risk."

The three kids had then promptly resumed their former discussion on the topic of accidental magic in pureblood houses, when the door slid open again and an annoying voice made itself heard.

"Is it true?"

Right, the ferret was there too.

Harry couldn't have care less about Draco, but he'd just seen the girls tense noticeably, and that just wouldn't do. The idiot had to learn that he wasn't welcome here.

"They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's on board, but no one seems to know where."

Great, Ron had surely started a man-hunt by asking for him in every compartment.

Now, how to deal with the soon-to-be Slytherin but already big jackass and his pair of brainless bookends?

"And what makes you think that we would hang out with someone like Potter, Malfoy?" asked Daphne, using what had to be an unrefined version of her Ice Queen persona.

"Well, he's a half-blood and you already have one as a pet, don't you Greengrass?" smirked Malfoy, eliciting an angry hiss from the blonde witch.

And then he turned to him.

"Now who's the new one?" asked the blond. "Another dog… or perhaps a new toy?"

"It's none of your concern, Malfoy." growled Daphne, her grey eyes catching Harry' own green ones and conveying a crystal-clear message.

Shutting up, he could do that.

"You're wrong Greengrass, it _does_ concern me." replied the arrogant brat. "It is my duty as a proper pureblood to ensure that your filthy pets know their place and won't pollute our world."

"Fuck off." snapped Tracey.

"I don't remember allowing you to speak, Davis."

"And _I_ don't remember allowing you to enter _my_ compartment, Malfoy." countered Daphne, visibly pissed. "So get the hell out and take your trolls with you."

Draco looked about to protest, but the wand that now rested in the witch's hand dissuaded him quite efficiently.

"Crabbe, Goyle, come on. This place is… unsanitary." scowled the ponce. "I wouldn't want to catch half-bloods."

A~nd they were gone.

Okay, Harry was really confused right now.

Since when had Draco bloody Malfoy known words like unsanitary.

"What the HECK was that?"

It was a lot less polite in his head.

" _That_ was Draco Malfoy, an… acquaintance of ours." answered Daphne.

"And an asshole." added Tracey in an angry whisper.

And since when had he been such a downright bastard?

Oh, Draco had always been a nasty piece of work, but he hadn't walked into bastardy territory until the middle of their fourth year. Before then, he'd mostly barked uselessly like an angry dachshund.

"… I see." said the confused wizard. "Thanks for chasing that guy away then."

Seriously, how could a first-year Malfoy be so vile?

Had he actually been going easy on Harry in the last timeline, or had his father despised the Greengrasses so much that he'd taught the _blood traitors' disdain_ advanced class to his son?

A prefect's voice chose to boom across the corridors at that exact moment, cutting his musing short.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time, be assured to wear your uniforms upon arrival. You must also leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Following the prefect's request, Tracey immediately rose from the couch and went to her trunk to retrieve her school robes. Dumping her jacket in the case and passing her uniform on, she turned around… and found her scowling childhood friend and a red-faced wizard trying desperately to look at anything but her.

"What?"

"Very classy, Tracey."

"Come on Daph, don't be such a prude." laughed the brunette. "And nobody's _that_ shy, Potter."

"You began to undress out of the blue, how do you expect me to react?" blushed the wizard.

"There wasn't much to see. It was just an outer jacket and I was fully clothed there."

"And how was I supposed to _know_ that?"

"… I can't tell if you're deliberately messing with me or if you're actually serious."

"That's my godfather." mumbled the time traveller.

"What?"

"Nothing…" he denied. "Look, how would _you_ react if I started to remove my clothes right now?"

A scary grin bloomed on the young witch's face.

"I would sit down and enjoy the view."

Harry's face entered a brand-new spectrum of colours.

He couldn't tell if she was sincere or not, nor how such a young girl could be such a minx. The saying that girls matured faster than boys had a grain of truth to it, he guessed. But even taking that into account and as glad as he was for having the witches as verbal partners, being teased by an eleven years old girl was seriously freaking him out.

He coughed, recomposed himself… and decided to even the score.

"Anyway… you're right Tracey, I shouldn't have worried like." he started, lips curling up in a playful grin. "After all, there wasn't much to see."

"Potter!" she growled.

"What? You said so yourself." he replied innocently.

"I hate you." she replied, echoing Daphne's earlier comment.

"No, you don't."


	5. Of Houses And Men

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Don't judge the House, judge the heart._

* * *

Of Houses And Men

* * *

"No more than four to a boat." instructed Hagrid, motioning to small vessels waiting for the students.

Harry and Daphne had just stepped into one when they realized that, for some obscure reason, Tracey had given them the slip and vanished among the other students.

The girl returned a few seconds later, grinning widely. She was also dragging a very confused Hermione and a red-faced Neville with her.

"Daph, Harry, I found you two passengers." smiled Tracey, pointedly ignoring her childhood friend's glare.

A boat trip with two of his oldest friend and the future Ice Queen of Slytherin, the time traveller wasn't sure if he wanted to thank or curse the hyperactive girl.

"But… what about –" began Hermione.

"Don't worry about me." interrupted the brunette. "I'll just go sit with Millicent."

And without further ado, she pushed her abducted victims into the boat and skipped out of view.

Awkward silence ensued.

…

Harry coughed.

"That was… weird."

"Tracey can be… overly enthusiastic sometimes." admitted Daphne, clearly frustrated.

"No kidding?" he grinned. "Anyway, care to introduce your friend, Hermione?"

"Oh, right." blushed the witch. "Harry, Ms. Greengrass, may I introduce you to Neville Longbottom. Neville, they're Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass."

"Hello Neville. Nice to meet you." said the time traveller.

Daphne nodded.

"S... Same here." timidly replied the boy.

"Did you find your toad?" asked his fellow wizard.

"We did."

"A prefect used a summoning charm." explained Hermione. "Thanks again for that, Harry."

"You're welcome."

Hagrid's voice suddenly boomed.

"Everyone in?"

He took a quick look around the shore and nodded.

"Right then, FORWARD!"

The Keeper's loud voice sent small ripples across the lake's surface and the boats started to drift toward the castle.

Taking a spur-of-the-moment decision, Harry put a contemplative look on his face and turned to Neville.

"Did she say your name is Longbottom?"

"Huh, yes."

"Any relation to Alice Longbottom?"

Neville flinched.

"She's... she's my mom." he muttered.

Harry smiled weakly to him.

"I learned a few days ago that she was supposed to be my godmother."

"W… was she?"

"Yes, like my mother was supposed to be yours."

"I... I didn't know that."

"You think we can talk about it some day?"

"Well... sure... some day."

"Thanks."

A lulling silence stretched for a few seconds, ultimately broken by Hermione with what had to be the most controversial question she could have come up with.

"Which house do you think you'll go to?"

"Slytherin" replied two of the boat's occupants without missing a beat.

Harry smiled at Daphne, who responding with rolling eyes and an almost imperceptible snort of amusement. Neville just sported a deer in the headlights kind of look.

"Why would you go there?" asked an unnerved Hermione. "That house's filled with dark wizard wannabes."

The two aspiring Slytherins sighed in unison.

"Prejudices." added Harry for good measure.

Neville was still frozen on the spot.

"Okay, you know there are four houses right?" started the ex-Gryffindor, receiving a nod in response. "Let's start with Hufflepuff, shall we? Puffs are mostly considered as below anything by the rest of Hogwarts. It's common knowledge among the students that you'll ended up a Puff if you don't belong anywhere."

"That's just... mean."

"True, but those same students tend to forget that the Puffs are all about loyalty. The Sett as a whole would stand up to a dragon with their bare hands if it meant protecting a friend. Hell, at this stage they're not a house anymore, they're family. But since those rumours cause them to be shunned by the other houses, they mostly stand among themselves, which only aggravate the situation. It's not pretty."

Hermione gulped. Neville had stopped to stare during Harry's explanation and was listening attentively.

"Let's move on to Ravenclaw." offered the wizard with a honeyed smile.

He made a show of clearing his voice and began as such "Ravenclaws are idiots."

"Way to go, Potter." breathed Daphne.

Hermione snapped.

"WHAT? But they say in _Hogwarts: A History_ that..."

"Would you please let me finish before you start shouting at me?"

She looked murderous, but nodded.

"As I was saying, Ravenclaws are idiots."

Grumble.

"Sure, they're smart and ideal students for the most part, as you'd expect for the House of Wisdom. But they're so engrossed in their books, classes and studies that they forget to live, to feel. In essence, they lack creativity and social skills. Also, if wizards in general have zero common sense, the Claws manage to get in the negative. The Nest can be a perfect place to learn and grow, just as long as you don't follow blindly what's being said and learn to think for yourself. Don't be afraid to admit that you need help, ask questions and only then will you be a fine Raven."

Harry's short speech had appealed to the girl's logic. His words did sound right enough and she had calmed down, even if only slightly.

"Now, Gryffindor. Greengrass, would you do me the honour?"

The witch stared at him for a moment… and reluctantly accepted.

"Fine."

She breathed deeply and the air lost a few degrees as her mouth curled into a wicked smile that would have made even S-class creatures run to their mothers.

Ice Queen indeed.

"Gryffindor's favoured quality is bravery. The truth is, they mistake bravery for recklessness. They tend to charge head-on into danger and many graduates died because of badly prepared tactics and stupid Light principles. If you end up in The Den, you'll probably perish before twenty, in a completely idiotic fashion, fighting a useless fight. Avoid the flying lions, end of story."

Her smile warmed up and Neville stopped to shake in his boots.

"Thanks, Greengrass." cheerfully beamed Harry.

"Whatever." she brushed him off, though it was apparent that she'd enjoyed giving that diatribe.

"By the way, despite what Greengrass just said, the house isn't only known for its recklessness, but also embodies chivalry and courage. Gryffindors are known to do not what is easy, but what it right, and make for great protectors, especially when they fight for someone or something. I believe the two of you would do great in Gryffindor even if, judging by what I saw, Hermione would be better as a Raven, and Neville, you'd probably be a better Puff than the Founder herself."

And he really meant that.

"Now, for the last house..."

"Slytherin." mouthed Hermione.

"Yes, Slytherin. The house of all evil, as everybody knows."

His voice turned syrupy, as if he was talking to a four years old.

"Now, do you truly believe that the founders were crazy enough to make a purposely evil house where they would gather every single future psychopaths they would manage to find?"

Hermione and Neville quickly shook their heads, manifestly nervous.

"Slytherin being evil is a rumour and nothing else."

"But... You-Know-Who..."

"Neville, the house praises cunning and ambitions. Voldemort –"

Gasp.

"Grow up, Longbottom." huffed Daphne.

"Sorry, Moldyshorts was sly and ambitious, like most dark wizards are, and he ended up there. Let's say, Neville, that you aim to be the next head of the DMLE to stop those same dark sorcerers. You would be ambitious enough to be sorted into Slytherin. Would that make him a dark lord by default, Hermione?"

"I suppose not." she mumbled.

"Greengrass here wants to expand her family's trading business and make her name renowned across the whole magical world." he added, earning himself a glare from said girl for casually spewing private subjects. "This ambition will surely lead her to Slytherin. Tell me, is she evil?"

"No… no, she's not." whispered Hermione, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Seeing as she'd witnessed Daphne's Ice Queen performance, it was perfectly understandable.

"What about you, Harry?" asked the Longbottom heir. "Why Slytherin?"

"Well… I do have an ambition myself, even if mine's not so challenging."

He just had to prevent a war after all.

"But as things are, I will end up there anyway." he added in a laugh.

"What do you mean?"

Harry smirked.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out."

Daphne muttered something.

"What was that?" he asked, cupping his ear with a hand.

"I hate you when you answer like that." reluctantly repeated the girl.

"No, you don't"

"Don't make me hex you, Potter." she threatened, as their boat finally reached the underground harbour they had sailed to.

Harry prevented Trevor from escaping again – much to Neville's relief – and left the boat with his friends just as Tracey rejoined the group.

"Hey there, how was the cruise?"

Daphne was on her in a split second.

"What in the name of Merlin was that?" she hissed in a whisper, her steely eyes piercing through the brunette.

"A duplicitous attempt to unfreeze you and expend the number of persons you tolerate." teased her friend. "Did it work?"

The blonde witch harrumphed and abstained from commenting.

Harry suppressed a snort and pressed his amused friends – and Daphne – into follow the other students.

Hagrid eyed the first-years for a moment, before knocking three times on the old oak door leading to the castle, the heavy wood panel opening with a muffled creaking noise.

From that point onward, events played in an all to familiar sequence.

The Transfiguration teacher introduced the students to the four houses and the point system they would use during their schooling, left them alone for a couple of minutes – during which several ghosts made a remarked entrance – and returned to lead the students to their sorting. Hermione commented on the enchanted ceiling upon entering the Great Hall, just like she'd done in the previous timeline, before freezing on the spot when the Sorting Hat started to sing.

"Showtime." happily whispered Harry.


	6. A Proper Sorting

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Take your time._

* * *

A Proper Sorting

* * *

"... So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Students and staff applauded vigorously, except for a few first-years way too intimidated to move from the spot where the very idea of a sentient and singing hat had stuck them. Seeing those, Harry's mind went back to his first Sorting. Yes, a house of the apprehensive and intimidated would be perfect.

Professor McGonagall stepped closer to the hat, unrolling the parchment listing the names of the new students.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

"Hufflepuff." whispered Harry.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Daphne' eyes snapped at him, but he was too focused on the stool to notice.

"Bones, Susan!"

"Hufflepuff."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

It was boring.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"Slytherin."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Oh. So boring, it seems, that he had missed out a few names. But did it really mattered? Boot and Brocklehurst had gone to Ravenclaw, Brown to Gryffindor, and Tracey was about to go...

"Davis, Tracey!"

"See you soon." whispered the young witch, walking up to the stool.

Behind her, Harry nodded, a small smile tugging a his lips.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Smiling, the brunette removed the Sorting Hat, _w_ _ink_ _ed_ at him – what was wrong with that girl? – and moved to her new House's table.

Okay, back to boring old regular Sorting now.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"Hufflepuff." stated Harry, back to his reflexive previsions.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

There. As he'd just said, boring.

Hey, he was allowed to be bored, it was stated in his contract. Why his Death would include a whole section about that, he didn't understand, but still... it was perfectly legal.

"Granger, Hermione!"

"Gryffindor."

Besides, it wasn't as if anything would surprise him here. He knew precisely what would happen and...

"RAVENCLAW!"

Wait, what?

* * *

Okay, so maybe he could still be taken by surprise.

Hermione had apparently ended up with the Ravens and Neville had just gone to the Puffs' table. As for Daphne, she was seated in Slytherin, nothing surprising here.

"Potter, Harry!"

That was something he definitely hadn't missed, the whispers. Potter she said... the Potter... yes dammit, but that wasn't giving them the right to gawk at him. He sat on the stool and prepared himself for a conversation that would surely be...

" _Fascinating."_ whispered the Sorting Hat, directly into his mind.

Harry had only heard him talk on a few occasions, but surely never on such an amazed tone. The hat sounded like a three years old in a candy store.

" _You're a marvel, Harry James Potter."_ continued the enchanted headpiece. _"Your little speech with Ms. Greengrass inspired Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom so much you had me impatient to meet you. Imagine it, the last Scion of Potter, aiming to be in Slytherin. Unthinkable and yet so brilliant. I was already_ _pictur_ _ing your school years."_

Wait, was he being... smug?

" _But you just had to exceed every single one of my expectations, didn't you?_ _Seriously, t_ _ime travel, I hadn't_ _had_ _that one in a few centuries_ _and definitely not so frequently_ _._ _It's actually pretty annoying. Three times have I_ _s_ _orted you, your next House has already been decided and you've accepted it… so what's the point of this discussion?_ _You're ruining my fun there, Mr. Potter."_

The hat sounded outraged for a millisecond, before returning to his overjoyed state.

" _Well, I suppose I can live with it if you promise me to stay as interesting as you were in your other lives."_

That got a smile out of the young wizard.

"Hello again, hat." he greeted the fabric, glad to see him again.

" _Hello again, Mr. Potter. Or is it Lord Potter now?"_

Harry was pretty sure that on the outside, the hat was smirking.

"I would appreciate it if you kept that fact to yourself."

" _Don't you worry, I will."_

 _ **Infinity Inc. would like to thank Nathaniel Hatfields for keeping Mr. Potter's situation silent.**_

The Death's voice had seemed to boom in the entire hall, but Harry knew that only the two of them had heard it. His future co-workers were clean workers and would never allow such a big mistake… he hoped.

" _Nah, you're welcome. You know I'm bound by the same kind of oath that links mediwitch and patients, the headmaster and the Minister of Magic themselves wouldn't be able to do anything about it."_

"That's a relief... and did she just call you..."

" _Nathaniel Hatfields, that's me. Or it was, in another life."_

"Once a hat, always a hat?"

" _Too true, Mr. Potter."_

There was a small hint of sadness in those words, even some regret. Thankfully, it disappeared with the next words.

" _Now, I believe you have a few questions for me."_

"I do."

" _Well, bring them on."_

Okay, he definitely sounded smug there.

* * *

The Great Hall had stayed silent for close to ten minutes now. That is, until curiosity and an increasing feeling of malaise grown on the students' body. Hushed whispers were now making themselves heard from the four tables… wait, make that five, Minerva McGonagall had just gone to the main table to talk with the headmaster.

"Albus, what's going on?"

"I'm afraid Minerva, that I'm as clueless as everybody else on this matter." replied Albus Dumbledore, any twinkles having left his eyes for quite some time now.

Truth be told, he was growing impatient himself, in addition to being slightly troubled. Between Hagrid's report and the letter he had received from his old friend Ollivander, he had been wondering for a month if everything was quite alright with the boy. With this new event, he was really getting worried.

"We'll have to wait and see." he concluded, both to his Deputy and himself.

And they waited.

* * *

Forty-seven minutes, Harry Potter had sat on the stool and received the Sorting Hat forty-seven minutes ago.

He was still on the stool and aside from the hat making a face from time to time, you could have sworn that spot had somehow been frozen in time. It was unheard of, probably magically taxing for the castle and most of all SO. DAMN. BORING.

The few first-years still waiting to be sorted had just sat on the floor, tired of being forced to stand.

The older students had quit trying to be discreet and were talking at a normal level, glancing at the stool from time to time, still wondering what was wrong with the boy but clearly no longer interested in the ceremony. They weren't allowed to eat because of it and the little firsties were a lot less important than their stomachs.

McGonagall herself had returned to her place behind the master table, joining the other professors in their own conversations.

" _HAHAHAHAHA!"_

The hat laughing manically took the whole hall by surprise.

The talks ceased, some students fell from their chair, some awoke mid-dreams with drool on their lower-jaw and it was a god-damn miracle that no one went into cardiac arrest. All in all, it would have made a great promotion picture for the school.

" _You're a wonder, Harry James Potter."_ stated the smiling hat. _"I hadn't had such a pleasant discussion in almost a millennium. We should definitely do it again."_

A few 'Please, don't.' came from the student body.

" _Not now, you morons."_

That got him a few raised eyebrows.

" _Anyway, should we go on with your sorting Mr. Potter?"_

"Please Nat, do." replied Harry, his face still hidden from view and his voice smothered by the thick leather.

" _All right."_

The hat seemed to take in a breath, which was surprising for a piece of clothing, animated or not.

" _Professors, school staff and students, may I have your undivided attention please?"_

"You have it." promptly replied McGonagall, as eager to end this mess as everybody else.

" _Thank you,_ _Deputy H_ _eadmistress."_ he said with a deep bow, before turning back toward the hall. _"_ _Mr. Potter's sorting is proving to be a rather peculiar case and_ _while I normally_ _w_ _ouldn't be able to_ _discuss it_ _due to several confidentiality oaths,_ _it's with his full consent that I'm hereby speaking openly to,_ _I hope,_ _avoid further questioning and unnecessary suspicion toward his person._ _Under other circumstances and f_ _or_ _the sheer_ _bravery_ _of this full disclosure_ _, Mr. Potter here would normally be going to Gryffindor. I sadly have to inform you that_ _it won't happen."_

McGonagall's ego deflated greatly. She was about to protest, to ask for a proper reason, when the hat carried on with his talk.

" _You see, I commonly stop myself after looking at surface thoughts and a few selected episodes of one's life to sort him or her. Looking eleven years' worth of memory would take way too much time… approximatively forty minutes."_

Nathaniel let the words sink in and smirked when his audience finally gasped in understanding.

" _I just reviewed Mr. Potter's entire life and came to the disturbing conclusion that he just can't be sorted properly."_ explained the hat, eliciting another round of strangled gasps.

"How can that be?" asked a worried Dumbledore from the master table.

The hat gave the equivalent of a shrug.

" _He would fit in any House."_

That seemed to reassure the old wizard, who sighed quite loudly. He'd probably feared a stranger, darker reason for the impossible situation.

" _Kid'_ _s_ _so_ _loyal that he'd follow his friends to hell and back, making him a_ _perfect candidate for Hufflepuff."_ began the hat. _"But h_ _e's brave and_ _foolish_ _enough to face_ _D_ _eath itself on the way_ _and come up on top,_ _which is absolute_ _Gryffindor dumbness."_

There was laughter – and mocking smirks – from three quarter of the student body. The last red and gold quarter merely grumbled in annoyance.

" _Ravenclaw… well, best discussion of the millennia and I meant it."_

The eyes of a certain part-goblin professor unexpectedly started to twinkle, startling many.

For his part, Albus Dumbledore wondered if his diminutive colleague had successfully broken down his charm or recreated it from scratch.

" _But again, he's cheating so… maybe not Ravenclaw."_

"Cheating?"

That question had just been asked by the frighteningly pleased voice of the local Potion Master. The man was openly smiling, thought it was not his usual sneer but an actual smile. It sent shivers down the spines of much of the children and several of the adults, who never before had witnessed such a horrifying sight.

" _Kid's not_ thinking _like a kid, he's thinking like an adult."_ explained Nathaniel. _"Makes him more analytic than most, but not actually smarter."_

"Hey!" huffed a voice from inside the leather.

" _He doesn't hoard knowledge, doesn't even want it… he just doesn't have the right mindset."_ finished the hat. _"That's why I'm putting him in Slytherin."_

That caused an uproar, outraged 'What?', 'Why?' and 'Slytherin?' reverberating around the room. A certain Defence professor almost chocked on his food.

The commotion finally died down when Severus Snape banged his hands on the table, rose from his seat and shouted at the hat.

"You can't do that! You just said that he couldn't be sorted!"

" _No, I said that he couldn't be sorted properly. Doesn't mean I can't just choose a House anyway."_

"Why not Gryffindor then?" continued the professor, sounding almost desperate.

" _It would be counterproductive."_ denied the enchanted headpiece. _"You see, I'd normally just ask Mr. Potter where he wants to go, but we talked and the kid doesn't seem to care one bit."_

A muffled 'No~pe!' came from under the leather.

" _So I have to settle for the next best thing, the House that'll be most beneficial during his schooling. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor won't teach him anything that he doesn't already know, and Ravenclaw's out because he's both suited and not suited for it."_

Nathaniel marked a pause and shifted toward the green and silver table, enjoying the looks of incredulity on the students' faces.

" _Now, Slytherin? It could teach him a thing or two."_

"How so?" asked the once-more worried Headmaster, not that enthusiast at the prospect of his champion of the Light being taught anything in the one House most renowned for its dark magic practitioners.

" _Mr. Potter can be sneaky and cunning when he wants to, of that there is little doubt. He also has a healthy amount of disrespect for rules and authority figures that should make him feel right at home… but you didn't hear that from me."_

The hat smirked as murmured threats emanated from under him. The audience began to wonder if he wasn't enjoying this a bit too much.

" _When it comes to politics and other social interactions though, our young friend is hopelessly ignorant."_ he continued, ignoring the menaces which had just reached a whole new level of sadism. _"He could use some advices and etiquette lessons."_

For the second time that night, the headmaster released a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding.

Only to suck it right back in with the next comment.

" _Seems more logical too, with him being a natural parselmouth."_

A few choked sounds – more like a few hundred – were heard. This time, the Defence professor _did_ choke on his food.

" _Anyway,_ _Harry Potter_ _is hereby_ _and irrevocably_ _sen_ _d_ _to the House of Cunnings. Thank you for your attention."_ casually concluded Nathaniel, completely dismissing the sea of incredulous, horrified stares directed his way.

As Hogwart's magic accepted the sorting, putting trims of green and silver on his robe, Harry hopped down from his seat and returned the hat to the stool. He then gave a deep bow.

"Thank you, Nathaniel Hatfields."

" _No, thank you, Mr. Potter."_ replied the Sorting Hat. _"With you here, the years to come are sure to be interesting ones."_

The time traveler and talking piece of attire shared a knowing smile, the former finally leaving after one final bow, this one for the Headmaster. Completely ignoring the fearful looks, pointed fingers and whispered questions, the not-so-young wizard approached the Slytherin table and sat next to Daphne.

"You had to make a scene, right Potter?" she welcomed him, sighing.

Even his best poker-face couldn't hide the mirth in his voice when he replied "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seems legit." snorted Tracey from across the table.

Around them, what was supposed to be a banquet was slowly turning into a riot.


	7. Into The Pit

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Snakes... Why'd it have to be snakes?_

* * *

Into The Pit

* * *

The Sorting Hat – or Nathaniel Hatfield, for it appeared that it was his name – had manifestly decided that fifty minutes for the Sorting of a single wizard wasn't shocking enough. No, it had to be accompanied by the revelation that said wizard, one firmly believed to be a saviour and a paragon of the Light, was in fact a parselmouth, that strange gift being considered by most to be the mark of dark sorcerers.

The Great Hall was in an uproar from the revelation, right until the subtle intervention of a still unsorted first-year.

The dark-skinned Blaise Zabini calmly made his way to the head-table and managed to worm his way into the professors' discussion – if that shouting match could be described as such – merely by standing silently in front of them. As weirdly as it may seem, it got their attention. The stoic boy kindly reminded them then, that some students were still waiting, no matter what may or may not be wrong with Harry Freaking Potter and the Sorting Hat.

It worked like a charm and, regaining their composures, the Professors got into action, Flitwick immediately casting a _S_ _onorus_ upon himself and demanding silence. Dumbledore would have gladly done it himself, but the recent events had effectively stunned him – and Snape glaring daggers his way definitely wasn't helping, the Potion Master apparently blaming the Headmaster for the entire thing.

McGonagall then retrieved her huge parchment and returned to stand near the hat's stool, resuming the Sorting normally by calling the next pupil forward.

It went unnoticed by most though, for despite the silence requested earlier, the older students kept on having hushed and rushed discussions. Finally, it is the appearance of food on the tables that managed to get them out of their frenzy, even if barely.

Or it would have, if the Sorting Hat hadn't suddenly shouted like a maniac.

" _NO WAY IN HELL!"_

McGonagall took a step back from the talking headgear, eyes wide open.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, uncertain.

" _You think?"_ it asked back, sarcasm plain to see on his leathery old face. _"You were about to shelf me, right? Sorting's done, so why bother with the Sorting Hat anymore, right?"_

The deputy headmistress proved unable to formulate an answer fast enough and Nathaniel carried on with his rant.

" _I'm only useful for a couple of minutes – hours this time, I suppose – and then_ _it's back to_ _gather_ _ing_ _dust in Albus' office._ _Well, no more! I'm not_ _a fancy souvenir,_ _The Founder themselves asked me to be_ _this school's_ _representative_ _and that what I'll bloody do._ _I'm not going back to the shelf, end of story."_ he grumbled, glaring daggers at the witch.

The teachers and students alike didn't know how to react to this new outburst. What was wrong with the hat this year?

"Well then, where do you want to go?" asked Dumbledore with a grandfatherly smile.

" _Mmmh… I'm not that mobile myself, so I should probably stay with a teacher or, better yet, a student."_

"Of course."

The headmaster sounded amused and his legendary eye-twinkle had reappeared. It didn't seem all that unusual, now that they'd seen Flitwick do the same.

" _Anyone would do, really… but a Slytherin would be best, those kids sure could use some wisdom."_

"I suppose you're right." chuckled the old wizard.

Severus Snape and most of his House glared.

" _You know what, I think I'll just stay with Potter."_ finally decided the hat, not surprising anyone. _"Someone needs to keep him in check, else he'll do something utterly stupid like face a Basilisk with a sword or outfly a dragon… probably a Hungarian Horntail… a mother hen."_

Those examples seemed… oddly specific.

"Well then, by all means, you may join your charge."

" _Thank you, Headmaster."_ said Nathaniel, before turning to the snakes. _"Potter, get your_ _scaled_ _ass over here!"_

* * *

At the Slytherin table, Harry had been thinking.

Nathaniel had been fun to talk to and had answered many questions he still felt himself unsure about. Having the opinion of a third-person on his past-actions and very thoughts had helped him tremendously, since he now had a plan to deal with Tom's horcruxes and the war. Okay, maybe not so much a plan as the rough draft of one. But still, things were in motion and better that than nothing, right?

Daphne and Tracey, after their initial greeting, had acted like his sorting was nothing out of the ordinary. No comments, no weird glances, no questions asked, nothing besides some innocent chatter on the upcoming school year.

Some of the other fellow Slytherins did try to catch his attention, but he ignored them entirely. Those ones, he knew from experience, where Death-Eaters in the making. There simply was no point in being nice to them, as they would never be nice to him. House camaraderie was a beautiful concept, but one he would be excluded of from now on, since Nathaniel had made it clear that he was a stranger in the snake pit, a weird chimera. Even in a castle filled to the brim with hundreds of students, he would be virtually alone.

But with the world and his eternal sanity at stake – working with Tom for all eternity, the horror! – he could bear with a few years of semi-solitude. Not real solitude still, as he would have the company of Daphne and Tracey. Maybe even, he hoped, Hermione and Neville. Then would come Luna Lovegood and the little gang would be back on tracks again.

As for including Ron… well, it wasn't impossible _per say_ , but it would be one heck of a challenge. The redhead had been a good friend, but his distrust of anything Slytherin was legendary.

"...er..."

Anyway, even with an incomplete gang, he should still be able to do much this year.

"...otter..."

It was only a matter of time and he would have that in profusion between and after class.

"Davis to Potter..."

Now, if only he could...

The time-traveller was dragged out of his day-dream by a punch to the head. Not quite strong, but right on top of it and fast enough to send his chin to the table and into his food.

"OWW!" he yelled, sauce dripping from his bangs. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"Your friend's asking for you." replied the smirking brunette, dropping back in her seat and gesturing to the impatient Sorting Hat.

"Oh, yeah... sure. Thanks, Tracey."

"It was a pleasure."

He wasn't sure how, but he knew that she wasn't talking about waking him up, rather referring to the punch. Between her cloying sweetness and contented smile – not to forget Greengrass' poorly dissimulated smirk – he was torn between smiling back and sulking.

Reluctantly, the time traveller left the table and went back to Nathaniel, wondering why he was smirking like that. He didn't know what sort of twisted plan his friend had concocted, but it didn't bode well for his sanity.

* * *

Harry wanted to bang his head on the table, but it would damage his new hat. Strangely enough, it made the idea that much more appealing.

Nathaniel hitching a ride for the entire year hadn't been part of their plan… well, Harry's plan. Nat had probably been thinking about it from the start, keeping it to himself just to annoy him.

It was working.

Dinner had turned into a real ordeal, with a whole new round of questions/glances/pointed fingers. It was worse than his initial first year, by a large margin, but wasn't rivalling with the Triwizard Tournament just yet… it was getting there though.

The wizard sighed, earning a snicker from the hat and an amused smile from Daphne and Tracey.

It was going to be a tough year.

* * *

The feast eventually came to an end and the students were invited to retreat to their common rooms.

One of the current Slytherin prefect, a blonde girl with a side ponytail, took the first-years – and one hat – aside and led them through the maze that was Hogwarts. It appeared quickly that she was voluntarily taking wrongs turns every now and then.

Harry supposed it was merely a manoeuvre so that every other student had enough time to reclaim their old rooms. He decided to play along, following in silence while he was truly exchanging trivia about the castle with Nat.

Zabini, once again making himself the voice of reason after several minutes of wandering around the halls, finally asked why they had just passed the same door for the third time.

"Because we're waiting for the others to settle in." smirked the girl, some Gemma Farley.

That surprised them quite nicely, except for Harry who just opted for a knowing smile.

"Excuse me?"

"Upon reaching the common room, we'll have to give you a little speech. As we don't want the other students in the middle of it, they needed time to reach the dormitories first. I'm merely providing it."

Her smirk grew bigger, if it was even possible.

"That's stupid." growled Draco.

Coming from Draco, it really meant something. Oh, wait...no, it didn't.

"Why can't you give us that speech in the Great Hall?" asked Theodore Nott.

"'Cause some rules are for Slytherin ears only."

"Then what about the lost lion?" spatted Pansy Parkinson, moving her head toward Harry.

Silence fell as everyone turned to him.

He shrugged, not bothered as much as Pansy was probably hoping he'd be. It surely was a slightly uncomfortable position to be in, but he had seen worse that very night… like Snape smiling.

Nathaniel chuckled at his thoughts and decided to answer for him.

" _Mister Potter isn't a lion, miss Parkinson. If anything, he's a chimera."_

"And I won't babble anything to anybody, if that's what you're concerned about. Even if through an unusual mean, I've been sorted in Slytherin and I fully intent to be as perfect a Slytherin as I would have been a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"That would require you to be cunning Potter, which you're not." sneered Draco.

Parkinson snickered, along with Crabbe, Goyle and surprisingly, Daphne.

"See? Even your little girlfriend knows it's true."

"Who're you calling his girlfriend?" growled the witch, taking the icy tone usually reserved for official Greengrass family business matters. "Besides, I was laughing at you."

"What?"

"You're either stupid, blind or both, Malfoy." she told him, eliciting a snarl from the blonde pounce. "You say that he lacks guile, but Potter hinted that his sorting would go awry before we even walked into the castle and predicted most of the sorting's results."

Nathaniel nodded, pleased with the girl.

Harry silently cursed, only know realising that his 'predictions' had been overheard.

"Trust me on that, Malfoy, he's more cunning that you'll ever be. The sooner you accept it, the better you'll feel about it."

Malfoy went beet-red. He was about to retort something (probably involving his father hearing about this) but was cut off by the prefect.

"Enough. Your little quarrel is already breaking the rules." she scolded them. "The others had way enough time to gather their things and the common room should be available now. Let's go, and in silence, unless you want to get an earful by Professor Snape."

The students may be new, thus knowing nothing of Snape, but what they had seen of him earlier at dinner and the way she had said his name were enough to send shivers down their spine. Harry and Draco were the only exceptions, since the first one knew how to handle the bat from experience and the second had the greasy man for a godfather. As for Nathaniel, he couldn't care less about the greasy Potion Master.

In a rather grim ambiance, the students decided to obediently follow Ms. Farley. The group went straight to the dungeons and stopped by the common room entrance, a plain-looking wall. One small password – ' _Morgana_ _'_ , despite being considered evil by most, had still been Merlin's wife and an undeniably potent sorceress explained the hat – and they entered.

* * *

Harry had been here before, back in his second year, but under polyjuice and under pressure. Not a good way to appreciate architecture. With that in mind, the time-traveller took a few seconds to look around.

The Slytherin common room was nothing like the Gryffindor tower. Sure, there was a fireplace, but it was casting unholy shadows everywhere, outlining every column and piece of furniture. Since there wasn't a single way for natural sunlight to reach the room – it was an underground dungeon, duh – and to make the general picture even more malicious-looking, the whole place was bathed in a gloomy green light by magical chandeliers. The walls were made of pitch-black stones and the furnitures of a wood dark enough not to allow any light reflections – though the fact that it wasn't polished may have a say in that.

The room known throughout Hogwarts as 'The Pit' was creepy, gloomy, grim, depressing, frightening, dreadful, suffocating... it was home.

"I like what you did with the place. Who's your designer?"

"Don't be a smartass, Potter." warned the prefect. "That would do you no good."

She walked to the fireplace and invited the group to seat on the nearby couches. The scene was fear-inducing and she had certainly staged it on purpose. Frightening the kids was a sure way to make them obedient.

"Now, Professor Snape is having a meeting so I'm to extend the welcome of the entire Slytherin house to you. From this moment, you're not alone anymore. Now, you belong to a family and you're expected to act with fellow Slytherins as you would with your own relatives."

Harry thought about the Dursleys. He was totally okay with that.

"Listen to your elders, respect your brothers and sisters, never shame the house and if you have a problem with someone, keep it to the common room. The school is biased already, this house has to stand united, even if it's merely an act."

Acting he could do. He already was, to be frank.

"Aside from that, the rules are fairly simple. Firstly, house meetings are mandatory. They are to be attended no matter what and nothing short of an obliviation shall allow you to avoid them."

" _Oh,_ _you'll_ _have to warn them about Lock_ _h_ _art_ _then_ _."_ mentally projected the Sorting Hat.

Harry almost snickered.

"Secondly, study time is mandatory and shall be done in silence." continued the prefect. "Schedules are handed on a weekly basis."

Great, he was here for less than a day and the snakes' rules were already cutting down his free time. How was he supposed to save the world in those conditions?

"Thirdly and finally, you're expected to keep the common room and your dorms in an appropriate state. Bribing or threatening Hogwarts' house elves into cleaning for you isn't an option here."

Buying or manhandling them was out of the question? Well, he had an idea that might just work then.

It was so simple yet so devious that Nathaniel had to smirk.

"Those rules are absolute, follow them to the letter. Now, a few advices. The dorms are inspected every few weeks, without previous warning. Should any unauthorised item be found, they will be seized by Professor Snape. Keep that in mind when taking things out of your trunk."

Okay, was he the only one seeing the problem here?

" _Nope, I see it too."_ answered Nat to his silent question. _"_ _A prefect hi_ _n_ _ting that unauthorised items, which probably included dark artefacts,_ _a_ _re fine as long as left undetected…"_

"Right? I mean, come on, where's common sense when you need it?"

The other Slytherins were just as oblivious of this exchange as they'd been to the others.

"Regarding your studies, should you ever need help, don't hesitate to contact professor Snape or an older student."

Harry was considering asking some upper years about spells and magical theory. It would provide him an alibi, even if a really frail one, should he ever slip and cast something he wasn't even supposed to know by sheer reflex.

" _And I can always give a hand if you want to know something about the school."_ interrupted the hat, earning himself a glare from miss Farley.

"Thank you." she replied, her teeth grinding at having been disturbed by a piece of leather. "And now, off to bed, firsties. Girls on the right, boys on the left. Your luggages have been brought and await you by your beds."

The children began to move toward the dorms. Harry didn't, going to Gemma Farley instead.

* * *

So, the small lion was feeling courageous? Or maybe was he suicidal? Either way, that move was just stupid.

"You want something, Potter?"

"Simply to thank you for your welcoming speech, Ms. Farley. Rules like advices were greatly appreciated."

" _Indeed."_ confirmed the Sorting Hat, smiling at her.

A hand was moved, fully opened. A handshake? Seriously? And how come a first year could be so calm and composed in a dungeon, in the middle of the night? She had created the perfect scene to make them fear her, but Potter didn't seem to mind it. And that voice... it wasn't anything like the one he had, back when making his buffoonish comment about the common room, the kid sounded like a completely different person. Worst, the prefect couldn't detect the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, he was sincerely thanking her.

What was wrong with him?

Something in the back of her mind was telling her that she wouldn't like the answer, but would soon get it anyway. This boy was bad news.

Recomposing herself – she was in sixth year, dammit – she took the offered hand.

"You're welcome."

"I know, that's precisely why I'm thanking you."

Oh Merlin, he was back to being dumb again.

The boy retracted his hand and started to follow his new classmates. Reaching the door, he seemed to think twice and turned back to her. His face was a mask of calm and confidence.

"You would do well to avoid Professor Snape tomorrow, Ms. Farley. He's sure to be most unhappy with my presence in his House and I believe that his talk with the headmaster will only add fuel to the fire. I wouldn't want him to pass his anger on you. Have a good night."

And he was gone.

She just knew it, bad news.

* * *

Harry quickly found the room that would be his for the seven years to come. Unlike the Gryffindor one, he would share it with two students instead of three.

Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott eyed him dangerously as he walked to his bed. Okay, so they were just eyeing him, big deal. He was only adding the 'dangerously' to cope with the conflicting feelings he was getting from them. He knew them to be cunning serpents with announced pureblood ideals for one, namely Blaise, and a Death Eater of a father for the other, Theodore. But the two boys didn't appear that menacing and that rubbed him the wrong way.

" _You're paranoiac."_ commented Nathaniel.

"I'm a war veteran, sue me." whispered back the wizard.

Harry opened his trunk and sorted his few earthly possessions. He then proceeded to release Hedwig from her cage. Without windows to escape through, the owl made a few turns around the room, finally perching on his bed's headboard. It would have to do until he could take her to the Owlery.

He was contemplating his bird when a cough made him turned around, wand in hand. His room-mates had their hands in the air in less than a second.

" _See? Paranoia."_

"Pax, Potter." said Zabini, using his unusually soothing voice.

Could it be a form of hypnosis?

"Sorry if we startled you." added Nott.

Harry lowered his wand, they lowered their arms.

"What do you want?"

"Merely to introduce ourselves." answered the dark-skinned boy.

The time traveller eyed them closely.

What was going on? They couldn't possibly be looking for a friendship. Not with the outsider that they were seeing in him and definitely not with Voldemort's _vanquisher_. Were they expecting a truce of sort, or just making use of their good manners?

"And why exactly would you want to do that?"

Hey, no one would get to say that he hadn't asked politely. Well, not politely per say, his tone may even have been slightly harsh, but he hadn't franticly waved his wand before torturing them for answers, he was considering it to be polite enough.

" _You're a scary kid."_

"Shut up." hissed Harry.

"The three of us will share this room for the years to come. We might as well be on cordial terms, don't you think?" explained Blaise.

The time traveler thought about it... and shrugged.

"True enough. I'm Harry James Potter and that's Nathaniel Hatfield." he gestured to the hat. _"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."_

"Theodore Nott. Equally pleased."

"Blaise Zabini. Likewise."

Harry shook their hands, exchanging polite nods with Blaise and finding an out of place goofy grin on Theodore's face.

Seemingly friendly Slytherins that were not Tracey, it felt weird.

"You made quite an impression tonight, Potter." continued Blaise.

"Not my fault that Nathaniel was feeling chatty."

The hat snorted.

"Okay, it kinda was."

"I wasn't merely referring to your sorting. I rather meant all those other oddities adding up, like the Sorting Hat responding to a proper name for instance."

"I didn't even know he… huh, you had one." interfered Theodore, still smiling like a loon and looking at Nathaniel.

"From their looks, even the professors weren't aware of it. So tell me Potter, how did you come to know it?"

"I asked."

" _And I answered."_

Blaise's eyes widened. That wasn't the sort of reply he'd expected.

"What did you two talked about?" asked Theodore, apparently too curious for his own good.

"Aside from when he was reviewing my entire life you mean?"

Receiving a nod, Harry began to list various topics they had supposedly discussed.

"Mostly current fashion..."

Time travel, life beyond death.

" _Cooking recipes…"_

Illegal potion brewing.

"Vacation plans…"

Artefact hunting and grave robbing.

" _Quidditch betting…"_

Lordship and politics, financial investments.

"Favourites musics…"

Phoenix bribing.

"Dusting and leather waterproofing."

Secret training rooms.

"You know, the usual."

Blaise's eyebrow shot up. That list sounded way too innocent, there had to be more to it.

"Is there truth in those words?"

Harry and Nathaniel smirked.

"That's for us to know…"

" _And for you to find out."_

"I see."

Those answers, Potter's previous actions, the Sorting Hat's comments, Greengrass' words to Malfoy… The Zabini heir was slowly starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, Potter could actually be in his place in Slytherin.

As for the Nott heir, he was being curious again.

"Are you really a parselmouth?"

 _[Dunno, you tell me.]_

"Wow, creepy." beamed Theodore.

"… thanks, I guess."

"That could easily make you a Prince of Slytherin, you realise that? You would have the house at your feet." earnestly said Blaise, seeing the full potential of this gift. Once that bit of information would be confirmed among the House, Harry Potter would be capable of directing every single Slytherin with merely a few words.

Sadly for the young wizard, he had no idea of the kind of personality he was facing. Harry Potter wanted nothing to do with the current Slytherin mindset.

"I know, but I really don't care." snapped Harry, "I'm here to study magic, not to dominate anyone nor drag my classmates through the mud. Now if you excuse me, we all had a tiring evening and I'd like to go to bed. Goodnight to you both."

Harry placed Nathaniel on the headboard, facing an intrigued Hedwig and wished them both a good night. Leaving his housemates staring, the young wizard closed the curtains around him and clenched his jaw, trying his hardest not to yell in frustration. The time traveller hadn't wanted to be so abrupt, but in between Tom and Dumbledore's interference in his life, the mere idea of controlling someone else was revolting him. Was Blaise really this power-hungry? If that was the mentality around here, his years in Slytherin would be more challenging that he had originally thought.

Harry didn't know it, but his two room-mates went to bed thinking about the lone wizard.

Theodore Nott may be overly enthusiastic on a daily basis, but excessively joyful and curious or not, he'd been raised as an heir and could think things through with surprising accuracy. Hence why Theodore was now wondering what other marvels would await him, should he hang out with Harry Potter. It was true that they hadn't talked much, but he liked what he'd seen in his room-mate. And the hat had said it, the years to come would be interesting with him around.

Blaise was rather contemplating his last answer, it had struck a chord in him. The boy-who-lived had so much potential, but wasn't willing to use it at someone else's expense. But his manners, his earlier words… it had been so Slytherin. What a curiosity…

Throughout their musings, a certain old hat watched in silence.


	8. First Day

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Back To Basics.  
_

* * *

First Day

* * *

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, kicking and screaming. Merlin, he'd almost missed those nightmares.

 **We have a problem.**

He hadn't missed those little interventions from his Death though.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Harry grumbled something that may or may not have been a 'What's happening?'

 **Wake up already!** urged the voice, even louder.

It seemed to do the trick. The wizard sighing deeply for half a second, before focusing. Grabbing his wand, he cast a soundproof charm on the bed and turned deadly serious.

"Okay, what do you want?"

 **You had a vision.**

"Woke me up. What about it?"

 **You shouldn't have them yet. Riddle hasn't been restored to a body and his spectral form should be too weak to affect you.**

"Good point." he conceded. "Any idea why it still happened then?"

She marked a pause and sighed.

 **Your scar… the horcrux in it…**

"The leech I walked in front of an AK for, yes. What of it?"

 **It seems to have been affected by your reincarnation.**

"Are you KIDDING ME?!" shouted Harry. "You sent the horcrux back?"

 **We most certainly didn't.** denied the immortal Indian. **Riddle's reliquary may be bound to your soul, but only your mind was thrust into the past, else your immortality would have followed you.**

Which would have rendered the entire operation pointless.

Still, that meant that one third of him was older than the rest, a seventeen years old mind wrapping around a younger soul in an equally young body… weird.

"So, I still host the ten year old horcrux –"

 **Yes.**

"– which doesn't behave like a ten year old horcrux –"

 **Yes.** confirmed his Death again, though her voice seemed a bit more peeved.

"– because… reasons?"

 **YES!** she snapped. **And until we figure out what is affecting it, I would suggest working on your Occlumency.**

"You know that I'm rubbish at it, right?"

 **Which is why you should work on it, as soon and as often as possible. You must contain that soul.**

The time-traveling wizard dropped back unto his pillow and sighed.

Complicated feast, complicated night, complicated awakening… his first day in Hogwarts was too much already.

"I'll get to it."

* * *

" _Tough night?"_ asked a concerned Nathaniel as Harry dragged his weary carcass out of bed, deep bags under his eyes.

"Nightmare… not a really good one. Lots of Death in it."

The emphasis was subtle, but extremely worrying by its implications. The Grim Reaper had dimmed necessary to drop by for a talk and it couldn't have been for tea and biscuits.

"Give me a moment to hit the showers and I'll show you."

Nathaniel simply nodded and watched the young wizard exit the room, barely registering his roommates.

"Is he going to be okay?" asked Theodore with concern, looking at the door where Harry had just disappeared.

Nathaniel eyed him critically, glanced at Blaise for a second, and answered.

" _It's not his first nightmare… he's used to it."_

"Doesn't sound healthy."

" _It's not."_

* * *

The first class, on the very first day and it had to be History of Magic.

Booooooring.

"Potter, Hatfield." called a familiar Slytherin, grabbing a chair to Harry's right.

Or maybe not.

"Hey, you two." smiled Tracey Davis, claiming the seat in between the time traveler and her childhood friend. "Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"Good morning, Greengrass. Tracey." both wizard and hat greeted, though the later stuck to their last name and added a polite 'misses'. "And I didn't feel like having hundreds of students gawk at me while I ate."

"It didn't bother you yesterday." remarked Daphne.

"Still doesn't, but I don't want to further feed the Hogwarts rumour mill."

"Bad move then." snorted the other witch. "Professor Snape complained quite loudly about your arrogance."

"Not surprising." commented Harry with a smile. "He hated my father and I'm a Potter, so I _must_ be like him… lucky me."

Daphne registered the information and pushed a paper toward him.

"Your timetable." she stated.

"Thanks."

"So, where were you?" asked the brunette.

"Nat showed me the kitchen."

"There's a kitchen?" suddenly asked Theodore, who had eavesdropped from his seat on Harry's left.

" _Food doesn't just appear out of thin air, mister Nott."_

"Don't call me that!" spat the wizard, good mood all but evaporated. "Mister Nott's my father and I'm _not_ my father."

The surrounding students froze, unsure of what to make of his statement.

Harry himself didn't know what to think. Was Theodore angry because he didn't like the man, or for not being recognized as his own person?

Just as quickly as it had left, warmth returned to the wizard's face and he smiled, as if nothing had happened.

"Theo's fine."

Nathaniel wearily returned the smile, perfectly aware of why the young boy was acting like this. Using his last name had been a mistake, he realised that now. He would have to be more careful in the future.

" _I'd prefer to use your entire first name, Theodore. That is, if you don't mind."_ he said. _"I'm the adult here, I have to show some manners. Using shortened names or nicknames wouldn't be proper."_

"And calling me kid is?" asked Harry, equally amused and annoyed.

" _You're thinking too much like an adult for your own good, Potter. I'll call you kid until you remember that you're one too."_

Harry scowled for a moment, before a massive grin slowly filled half of his face.

"Fluffy's probably lonely, right? I'm sure he could use a stress ball."

"Fluffy?" repeated Theodore and Tracey, while Daphne elegantly raised a questioning eyebrow.

Harry cursed under his breath and hurried to create a plausible story.

"Just my aunt's dog. Large hairy thing, drools a lot and has a mean temper… the dog too."

It got a laugh out of Theodore and Harry relaxed, releasing his breath.

Daphne memorized that too.

" _Okay, that was childish enough I suppose."_ said the hat out loud, before switching to mental communication. _"Mind what you say, Harry."_

"Sorry." replied the wizard in a similar fashion.

"So, when is the class starting again?" asked Theodore completely out of the blue.

" _It already has, Theodore."_

The boy looked around and confirmed that, yes, the teacher was in fact in the room, talking about some kind of war.

"Shouldn't we be taking notes?" inquired Tracey.

"Don't bother, Binns' class is even more dead than he is." explained Harry, pointing at the few students who had already fallen asleep to prove his point. "You'll find more about the course in the history books at the library than you'll do in here anyway."

"So… what do we do?"

Harry rummaged through his bag and retrieved his Charm book. There were a few spells he needed to work on.

Daphne eyed him for a moment, before taking out a school book of her own. She would study History of Magic in History of Magic… audacious.

"I'm surrounded by bookworms." sighed Tracey, dropping her head on her school bag. "Wake me up when class' over."

Theodore shrugged in a whatever-floats-your-boat kind of way and returned to his own notebook, where he began to doodle.

* * *

What a day.

The first theoretical Charm class had been… weird. Flitwick's attention had been focused almost solely on Nathaniel and him, so much in fact that he had probably asked them three times more questions than to all the other students put together.

Transfiguration had been equally strange, when McGonagall had regarded him at first with wary, before slowly relaxing. She seemed to remember that he wasn't simply a snake, but Lily and James' son, as well as a perfect Gryffindor candidate according to Nathaniel. By the end of the lesson, she was pretty much treating him like an honorary lion.

And as if the teachers' behaviour wasn't unusual enough, Daphne had also watched him like a hawk. He didn't know why she was doing so, but it unnerved him quite nicely.

But the day was over soon enough, no more classes. It didn't mean that he would be inactive though, he had a few seeds to sow.

* * *

"Professor Flitwick?"

The diminutive teacher closed his book and turned toward his rather unexpected visitor.

"Can I help you, mister Potter?"

What was he doing here? He'd thought that he had scared the boy earlier, with all those questions…

"I… I hope so, sir." replied the young wizard uneasily. "I don't know that much about my parents, but Mister Ollivander told me that my mother's wand was suited for Charms and I think that you were already teaching at the time."

Ha, that certainly explained his presence.

"I was hoping that you would tell me about her."

Harry ticked a first box on his mental checklist when the half-goblin smiled.

"I taught both of your parents." began Flitwick. "Your father was a good student, but your mother truly excelled. You see…"

* * *

"Professor McGonagall?"

"May I help you, mister Potter?"

"Professor Flitwick thinks so, yes." replied the wizard. "I asked him about my parents and he told me a few things about them that I'd never heard before. He suggested I come to you next."

The witch took off her reading glasses and smiled at the boy.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint Professor Flitwick. Please, take a seat."

That made two.

* * *

"Who is it?"

"Hagrid? It's me, Harry. Can I come in?"

"Of course, of course. Wait just a… Fang, back! Back I said!"

That one was going to be a bit more difficult.

* * *

" _How did it go?"_ asked Nathaniel from his attributed bedpost when Harry returned to his room, an hour before dinner.

"I tried to orient my questions so that Flitwick would tell me about Snape being friend with mom, but it didn't work. He just told me a bit of trivia about my parents, same with McGonagall." explained the time traveler. "Hagrid mentioned the Marauders though, so if I keep this up for a few days, someone will probably drop either Sirius' or Remus' name."

" _Pretty good for a first day… your grand scheme might just work at this rate."_

"Our scheme, Nat." corrected Harry, putting the hat on.

" _Where are we going?"_

He received his answer in the form of a memory.

" _You sure? What if the twins are checking the map? If your memory's accurate, a certain cat will be quite speedy tomorrow."_

Another though came, a bit more hesitant.

" _Thanks, I wasn't worried enough… but you don't really have a choice, I suppose."_

The image of a certain Death passed through their minds.

"No, I don't."

* * *

Argus Filch was the school's caretaker, a grumpy man who seemed to hate the world itself and every living thing on it, with the exception of his cat, Ms. Norris. Generations of students had fuelled that hatred before and that duty now fell to Fred and George Weasley, friendly pranksters with enough craftiness in them to annoy the man for decades.

Coincidently, they'd decided to use that craftiness to turn Ms. Norris bright pink and put her on a sugar high.

The identical twins had already gathered their pranking material, now they just had to locate and isolate the furry menace. Finding a lone cat in a giant castle would have been impossible for most people, but the twins had a unique tool, something they'd snatched from Filch's office during a detention and were now about to use against him… poetic justice.

Fred – or was it George? – grabbed what appeared to be a blank piece of parchment and taped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

At that simple command, ink flooded the paper, an object that may appear simple enough in its design, but was in fact unique in its making and complexity.

The map had been crafted years ago by four students, the Marauder. It showed the school grounds in their entirety, revealed every secret passage along with their passwords and tracked every single individual around the building in real time. It wouldn't be able to locate the cat, but the demon was never far from her master and _he_ showed up on the map.

"I look up from the dungeons" began one of the twins.

"and I look down from the upper floors." concluded the other.

They got on each side of the map and slowly made their way to the middle, looking for the caretaker and his hellbeast.

The redhead looking over the upper floors was, much like his brother, trying to isolate solitary sets of footprints. Surely enough, he succeeded, though he didn't quite find what he'd been searching for.

George – or was it Fred? – looked up from his own researches when his brother hiccuped in surprise.

"Found him yet?"

"No… but I found Potter."

"Harry Potter?"

"You know another?"

"Guess not." George – Fred? – shrugged. "What about him?"

"He's running up the Way-to-go."

The wizard almost chocked to death.

"What?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

"Look for yourself."

The Weasley joined his brother and, sure enough, discovered Harry on the map.

The first year was using the Way-to-go, a hidden staircase that linked every single uneven-numbered floor together. Weirdly enough, it was located right next to a hidden slide that only opened on the even-numbered floors, just as appropriately named the Hard-way.

"What is he doing in there?" asked the redhead, astonished.

"I have no idea." replied his brother.

"Think he found it himself?"

"On the first day?" snorted the boy. "Must have been the Sorting Hat."

"Makes sense." recognized the other. "We'll have to talk with them."

Fred – or maybe George – hesitated for an instant, before nodding slowly.

"What is it?" asked George – but again, it could have been Fred.

"Can you look for Filtch alone? I want to see what Potter's up to."

"Think it's worth the time?"

"… won't hurt to check."

* * *

Harry exited the secret staircase and glanced around the empty hallway. His uncommon arrival hadn't been noticed by the paintings.

Walking away from the secret entrance, he slowed his pace down and tried to act as normally as possible. It wouldn't do to alert them by running like a nutjob or sneaking around suspiciously. It worked perfectly and he reached his destination a few minutes later. There, he began to pace… one, two, three times.

A door appeared and the wizard entered.

* * *

In the Gryffindor tower, a certain Weasley gasped twice. Once when a name vanished from his map, and once when it returned, two minutes later.

* * *

" _Is this one sufficient?"_ asked Nathaniel, eyeing the book they'd just retrieved in the Room of Requirement.

"It'll have to do." answered Harry, putting it in one of his robe's inner pocket. "The subject's pretty obscure and I can't really explain finding twelve of them lying around empty classrooms. Imagine Snape's face."

" _I am… it's extremely funny. He just turned blue… now he's drooling… oh my, I think he needs a tranquilliser."_

The wizard smiled and started to run down the nearby stairs.

"You can picture it later, I'm starving."

" _And I'm sure your haste doesn't have anything to do with two certain snakes that would be upset if you didn't show up for another meal."_

"Shut up."

* * *

"You're late, Potter."

An out-of-breath Harry looked at Daphne, his eyes wide and mouth opened.

Was she serious? He'd just run up and down seven floors plus one dungeon, only to run back up to the Great Hall when he'd discovered that his friends had already left the common room, and the first thing she had to say was 'You're late, Potter'?

" _I like that girl."_ grinned Nathaniel. _"And close your mouth, you look ridiculous."_

"Man, you look beaten." said Theodore, taking a second serving of chicken wings. "What happened?"

The wizard had taken to hang out with them, though Harry couldn't for the love of Merlin understand why. Being cordial to each other was one thing, but being friendly was another entirely.

"I visited a couple of professors to discuss something and lost track of time." answer the time traveler, drinking his exhaustion away with pumpkin juice.

"Talking tired you out?" asked Tracey with a hint of a smile.

Harry glared.

"No, running to the common room and back looking for you did."

The witch scratched her head awkwardly and began to apologize.

"Well, we waited for you at first but..."

" _Your stomach fought your patience and won."_

She nodded, embarrassed.

"I can relate to that." laughed Harry, grabbing a nearby bowl of salad. "I'm starving."

"Who were you talking to?" asked Daphne after a moment of silence.

"Professors Flitwick, McGonagall and Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Ground."

"What for?" she pressed.

"What is this, the Spanish inquisition?"

"The what?"

"Nevermind." said Harry, remembering that purebloods weren't much more concerned about the muggle world during the 15th century than they were nowadays. "I just asked them about my parents' days in school."

"Oh… learned anything?" asked Tracey.

" _That Lily Evans was brilliant and James Potter a bit of a dunderhead."_ replied Nathaniel, before smirking wickedly. _"Kid took after his father."_

Theodore and Tracey chuckled, while Daphne smirked softly. Harry tried to frown at first, but couldn't stopped himself from smiling.

Maybe the year wouldn't be that bad after all.


	9. Suspicion

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _I plan on bugging you everyday for the foreseeable future._

* * *

Suspicion

* * *

A couple of days ago, Harry had briefly thought that his fourth first year would be a good one.

He was taking it back, that year sucked and his life sucked even more.

"Why am I doing this again?"

"Because you're crazy?" proposed Theodore.

Harry sighed.

Daphne and Tracey had _cordially_ issued an invitation to join a study session they'd arranged with Hermione.

Which was fine by him, the time traveler had himself taken to work on his herbology and potion assignments with Neville. Inter-House unity for the win.

But the war veteran was far from dumb, he'd learnt to read between the lines and the whole thing reeked of a badly-veiled set-up.

"Come on, it can't be that bad… right?"

"What? You want to come?"

"Being stuck in the library with you, Tracey, Greengrass and a Ravenclaw? Sounds like fun, I'll pass."

" _And before you ask, I'll stay with Theodore."_ hurried to said Nathaniel from his friend's bed. _"You're on your own kid."_

"Thanks Nat, I feel the love."

* * *

Harry, Daphne, Tracey and Hermione had gathered around a solitary table in a corner of the library, studying in silence.

Things had been pretty innocent so far, but the wizard's bad feeling had nonetheless remained. Feeling which soon turned into a blaring alarm when the girls exchanged a small nod, put down their respective books and faced him in perfect synchronization.

"Harry… we need to talk." began Tracey.

The time-traveler didn't know what they wanted yet, but it probably would be good for him. Which meant that he had to think things through… which meant that he had to buy himself more time.

"Dammit, the three of you are dating."

"W… WHAT?" chocked Hermione, her face turning a pretty shade of red. "No! And ew!"

Useless jokes wouldn't be his first tactic in most circumstances, but he wouldn't be able to outsmart those witches. He could only stall them and hope for the best.

"Stop joking Potter, this is serious."

"No, that's my godfather."

Daphne's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Oops, tactical mistake. He would have to kick Padfoot for that blasted automatism.

Afraid to slip again, he accepted his fate and closed his Transfiguration textbook, focusing on the girls.

"Alright, what do you want?"

"We… we're worried about you." said the Ravenclaw.

Harry stared at her for a moment, before bursting into genuine laughter. Three firsties worrying about a war veteran… cute.

"Thanks Hermione, I needed that. Wait, you said we? Like… Greengrass' worried too?"

"Potter!" growled the blonde.

"Doesn't look that concerned if you ask me."

"Dammit Harry, shut that big mouth of yours and listen for once." demanded her childhood friend, in an unusually aggressive tone.

The wizard sighed, but complied.

"We noticed a few things and I… we..." hesitated Hermione.

"We have questions." completed Tracey.

"And we expect answers." concluded Daphne, looking dead serious.

Harry closed his eyes and expired slowly.

Those three wouldn't take no for an answer and he had no idea what they had seen or pierced together. He only had two choices, bullshiting his way out or telling the truth.

Bah, who was he kidding, it wasn't a real choice. He would just tell the truth whenever it was possible, and lie his head off for the rest.

"What do you want to know?"

"How are you sleeping, recently?" asked Tracey casually.

Harry sighed.

The question was useless, he knew from her eyes that she was perfectly aware of his answer.

"Theo told you?"

"About your nightmares? The ones from which you always awake screaming your throat out? He may have mentioned them, yes." she replied in a perfectly natural voice.

Then she smacked him upside the head and hissed so low that he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd spoken in parseltongue.

"You idiot, of course he told me. The question is, why didn't you?"

"Because there's nothing you can do to help me." he hissed back.

The brief look of hurt in her eyes made him feel extremely guilty. He didn't even dare to look at her friends, because he was sure that he would see the exact same disappointment.

"Look, I've been an orphan from age one and I had a crappy childhood. I'm damaged, okay? And now that I'm here, happily studying magic with my _friends_ , I need time to adjust. I'm already working on it, but it's something of a long-term project."

"Harry..." sadly whispered the brunette, unshead tears in her eyes.

And now she was pitying him, great.

"So… you're meditating?" timidly asked Hermione.

"No, I'm studying Occlumency."

"WHAT?"

"Don't yell Greengrass, we're in a library." admonished Harry.

"Who's teaching you?" asked the witch, her voice lower but equally frantic.

"Nobody is, I'm learning from a guide book. I think the author's name is Naïsar Slihmer of something." replied Harry. "Not sure of the pronunciation though, I think it's Indian."

Daphne stared at him, a blank look on her face.

"Huh… what's Occlumency?" asked Hermione, a bit lost in the conversation.

"It's a mind art, to organize … well, the mind." explained the time-traveler. "It lets you isolate specific memories, control your emotions and identify mind-reading attempts. With enough training, you can even push back the attacker and cause him a brutal mental backlash. Guaranteed headache."

"Wizards can read minds?" yelped the Ravenclaw.

Harry could see that she was already wondering if an aluminum hat would help and decided to reassure his friend.

"More like… surface thoughts, feelings. Nathaniel can go a lot deeper, but he only ever used that on me."

"So he really watched your entire life?" asked Tracey, amazed.

"Sure, and he knows more about me than I can even remember." laughed Harry.

"Where… where did you find that book?" gasped a strangled voice.

"Back to earth, Greengrass?"

"Answer me, Potter!" growled the Slytherin.

"Bought it in Knockturn Alley by owl-post."

Sort of.

Hedwig had done the trip to the Alley, but only to drop a letter at Gringotts. He'd wanted to ask a few questions regarding his parents' will.

The book had merely been retrieved in the Room of Requirement, but Daphne didn't need to know that.

"I thought so." sighed the witch. "That was pretty reckless."

"Why?"

"It's Knockturn Alley." summarized Tracey. "Someone could have hurt your owl."

"Hedwig's a big girl and it was either that or unlimited nightmares until next summer, since I'm not leaving the castle for the holidays."

"He has a point." said Hermione.

"He didn't _need_ the book." replied Daphne, slightly pissed. "I have the notes my father gave me. If he had just asked, I would have helped him."

"And how was I supposed to _know_ that?"

The Slytherins' staring contest lasted five seconds tops.

"Fine, but I want to see that book." compromised the blonde witch. "Father gave me those notes because some authors just don't know their craft enough and I don't want you to study from some second-rate text."

"Sure." smiled Harry. "I finished it yesterday anyway, so unless you find some huge mistakes that must to be corrected, I don't really need it that much. I can just work on the exercises by myself."

"Do you mind if I borrow it, then? After it's checked, of course." asked Hermione, visibly still not that happy about the mind-reading wizards.

"Go nuts."

"Thanks Harry."

"You're welcome." he replied, before turning toward the other girls and asking a question of his own. "Can I go back to my Transfiguration now?"

"No, I said that we had questions, plural. You answered one." said the brunette Slytherin. "Yesterday, when we were late for Herbology, Nat helped you access a shortcut. I almost fell three times in that bloody tunnel and Theo _did_ fell, twice."

She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"But _you_ walked around just fine. You never hesitated or stumbled around, not once. Care to explain that?"

"I _may_ have used it before." recognized Harry.

"When and why?" insisted Tracey.

"Tuesday and Friday, right before dinner."

"So you're not really exercising."

"I am." he corrected her. "Just not outside."

"You're running IN the school?" asked Hermione, eyes wide.

The wizard nodded.

"Nat's showing me the secret passageways. That blasted school's worse than a piece of Swiss cheese."

Hermione looked ready to shake him until he accepted to show her every last one of them, but a single frown from Daphne managed to hold her back.

"Good for you." said the Slytherin. "Now what's your problem with Professor Snape?"

"Snape? I don't have a problem with Snape."

"I think that's her point." explained Tracey. "The man hates you, hates your entire family in fact and is vocal about it, but you don't seem to mind. You don't even seem to resent him for that. And every time he walks into a room, you look –"

"Sad..." completed her best friend.

Harry looked at the ceiling and sighed. He couldn't possibly lie about that, but he couldn't really answer honestly either. It was impossible to tell them that he'd watched the Potion Master die, that he understood what he'd been forced to do for the sake of the Order…

So he settled for a partial explanation, one that he could justify.

"It's… complicated." he began hesitantly. "Yes, Snape hated my father, but I can't really fault him for that. You don't hate someone without a reason, even an immature one. I don't know what cause that hostility, but dad must have deserved it, if only partially."

"That's… true, I guess." recognized Tracey.

"But it goes deeper than that." he continued. "Snape hates all Potters, but I think that he liked my mother."

That earned him two 'What?' and a raised eyebrow.

"Not romantically." he lied, reluctant to provide his friends with that mental image. "But Flitwick –"

" _Professor_ Flitwick!" furiously rectified Hermione.

"– told me the other day that Snape and my mom used to study together. They even worked as co-writers on a couple of essays, despite them being in different Houses."

"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin working together." mused Daphne. "It must have caused a few outcries."

"Right in the middle of Moldyshort's rise to power." nodded Harry. "Probably not their best decision. But from what I know about my mom, if she managed to find a friend in a man like that, he can't be all that bad. And every time I see him, scowling and sneering, acting all mighty, I just…"

"You're sad for him… for what he must have lost during the war and what he became because of it." summarized Hermione.

Silence could be a beautiful answer sometimes, and that's what he gave to Hermione.

"That's a pretty story, but what about Quirrell?" abruptly asked Daphne, voice even sharper. "You're always glaring at him, why?"

Now that was something he could answer truthfully.

"I don't trust him." spat the wizard. "That stutter of his looks way too perfect to be true."

"Sounded pretty convincing to me." said Tracey.

"Convincing, not genuine. It's happening way too often, on way too many words. Trust me, he's faking it."

"But… why would he do that?" asked Hermione.

"Not idea. But you remember what he said about all that garlic in his classroom? How it was to repel vampires?"

He received three nods.

"Well, I looked it up in the library. Garlic essence acts as a slow-acting poison to vampires, but the thing itself won't repel them a bit, except maybe if they're starving and completely exhausted. A proper DADA teacher would know that, so Quirrell's either a charlatan –"

"Or he's using the smell to hide something else."

"And one more point for Greengrass." said Harry jokingly.

"Don't make me hex you." threatened the witch in a growl.

"Fine… spoilsport." grumbled the amused wizard. "So, we're done with the interrogation yet?"

"One last question." countered Tracey.

Harry seriously doubted it.

At most, it was just a temporary mercy.

"What was the spell you used on Malfoy during flying class?"

" _Petrificus Totalus_ , the Body-Bind Curse. Simple and pretty damn useful. It's in Vindictus Viridian's _Curses and Counter-Curses_."

"And why did you use it?"

"Because he was assuming." smirked Harry.

His fellow Slytherins stared, incomprehension plain on their face.

"What?"

"It's a muggle expression." explained Hermione. "Not a very polite one."

"When you assume, you're making an ASS out of U and ME." provided the wizard.

"Amusing." commented Tracey.

"Appropriate." he corrected. "Malfoy was mocking Ron Weasley and called him a lousy flier before he could even grab his broom. I'm not that friendly with Weasley, but Malfoy was shaming the House by acting all Gryffindorish… and thinking about it, I'll have to ask Nat if he can be resorted."

Hermione tried to picture Malfoy in Gryffindor robes… she smiled.

Daphne had conjured the same image and was trying to restrain a smirk, whereas Tracey admitted that it would be interesting to watch.

"Interesting?" snorted Harry. "Forget interesting, it would be bloody glorious."

* * *

" _You pretty much bullshited your way around everything."_ commented Nathaniel later that night. _"If I had hands, I would applaud."_

"Not completely." winced Harry. "Most of it was true."

" _But it wasn't even half of what you could have said, if you'd answered honestly."_

"Thanks for the comfort."

" _Hey, you gave me goosebumps first, with the excursion to the Room."_ the hat defended itself.

"You saw anything of interest today?" asked the wizard, not wanting to enter yet another interminable debate.

" _A few of your housemates asked me some questions about the castle,_ _miss Parkinson_ _lost a couple of points when_ _s_ _he tried to bully some_ _Hufflep_ _uffs_ _and_ _mister Malfoy_ _a couple more when he challenged_ _your old Gryffindor friend_ _to a midnight duel_ _. Aside from that, Theodore and I saw Blaise in the park, alone and_ _look_ _ing_ _at_ _a bunch of_ _Ravenc_ _laws from a distance. I don't know what he's planning, but his behavior isn't all that reassuring."_

Not, it truly wasn't.

The dark-skinned pureblood was always watching the other students with a critical eye, trying to measure them. It furiously reminded Harry of Fleur and Viktor's attitude, back at the very beginning of the Triwizard Tournament and he didn't like that comparison one bit.

"We'll have to watch our back around him."

" _Agreed."_


	10. Convergence

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Let's be friends._

* * *

Convergence

* * *

Hermione was a good friend, and good friends were more than worth a couple of galleon... or a few dozens.

For the birthday of his bushy-haired friend – and old best friend – Harry had consecutively owl-ordered an expansive book on spell creation, a feat way above many N.E.W.T. level. wizards and witches. He wasn't expecting her to produce anything in the immediate future, but she would surely be able to provide a few useful spells by fourth or fifth year.

And because he wanted all of his friends to get along, he'd also bought another present on behalf of Theodore and put it on his bed. He wasn't worried about Neville, Tracey and Daphne, they would have remembered the date on their own and bought gifts themselves, but his roommate didn't even know about the Ravenclaw's birthday – nor would have remembered it if he had known in the first place, he was _that_ scatterbrained.

The aforementioned wizard had barely walked in their shared room, obviously returning from his morning shower, when he froze mid-step, eyes glued on the wrapped book.

"Harry? What's that?" he asked, gesturing at the intruding object.

"A birthday present." replied the time traveler, completing the covering on his own gift.

"It's not my birthday." deadpanned his roommate.

"No, it's Hermione's and that –" explained Harry, pointing at the package. "– is your present."

"Oh… all right."

Okay, that guy was way too accepting for his own good.

Between that and his severe curiosity, Harry was beginning to fear for his life.

"What is it exactly?" asked Theodore "I don't want to be surprised by something that I supposedly bought."

"A tome about Wizardry Customs. Not that agreeable to read, but informative nonetheless when you want to know why the society's so rotten."

Theodore was gawking at him now, probably wondering who could be cruel enough to offer something like that as a present.

"Don't look at me like that, she loves that kind of stuff."

"… if you say so." hesitated his friend.

* * *

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

An extremely surprised Theodore received an armful of brown curls on top of a very happy witch. He returned the hug awkwardly, unsure if he was supposed to blush or run away from the clearly insane girl.

Standing next to a smiling Tracey, a smirking Daphne and an amused Neville, Harry playfully mouthed 'Told you.' to his embarrassed roommate.

* * *

Finally, it had taken almost five weeks of constant nagging, but Hagrid had eventually talked about Sirius.

Harry had first frightened him, describing a recurring nightmare of blurred cries, high-pitched laugh and bright green light that he absolutely hadn't had recently. Then he'd guilt-tripped the half-giant by talking of the crying yet smiling man and the flying motorcycle that he sometimes saw in his dreams.

It had been enough for the poor Keeper to burst into tears and empty his bag about that fateful night.

The young not-so-young wizard had basically done the one thing he despised more than Voldemort… he'd manipulated his friend. He wasn't particularly proud of it – more like utterly ashamed of himself – but now he had an excuse to raid the library and look into the Black family.

If he remembered correctly, Hogwarts had a book about the Most Noble and Ancient Houses that acted in a similar fashion to the Black tapestry. He would locate it, and unexpectedly discover that he had, through his grandmother Dorea Potter nee Black, a distant cousin in the person of Nymphadora Tonks, seventh year student in Hufflepuff.

After that, asking Sprout if she could arrange a meeting between him and the cousin he didn't even knew he had would be a cinch.

More manipulation, yay!

The only drawback he could see to the entire thing – other than the guilt – was that it would officially confirm that he was related to Draco.

" _I'm sorry for your loss."_ smirked Nathaniel.

"Thanks." replied the wizard.

* * *

Like he'd predicted, talking to Sprout had been easy. He'd just had to smile and politely ask if she could introduce him to his newly-discovered relative. He hadn't expected to be invited into the Hufflepuff's common room though.

"Wotcher, Harry!" called Tonks, walking out of the badgers' female quarters.

"Huh… you too."

His cousin smiled and dropped in a comfy chair. Probably for the best, she would likely manage to break something by accident if she kept on standing, clumsy as she was.

"So, you finally remembered your favorite cousin?" she asked. "After five weeks, I was beginning to think that you didn't want to see me."

"Sorry Nymphadora, but I don't remember you." apologized the wizard. "I only just found out that I still had relatives in the Wizardry World."

Under other circumstances, the witch would have yell at him for using her first name. But her baby cousin looked so sad and his admission was so unexpected, that it didn't even cross her mind.

"Oh… how did you find me then?"

"In an auto-updating book of the Most Noble and Ancient Houses I found in the library."

"But… my mother was disowned." said the stunned witch.

"The book doesn't seem to care." smirked the time traveler.

His honed reflexes weren't enough and he got crushed in a bear hug. In fact, he was seriously wondering if the Metamorphmagus hadn't enhanced her muscles just for the occasion. He was pretty sure that he'd heard one of his ribs break.

"I'm _so_ writing mom about that." beamed the girl.

While she had previously sported the distinctive Black hair, she was now displaying her happiness. Harry was amused to note that she looked like a totally different person with bright blond hair.

"Whoa, what happened to your hair?" he exclaimed himself, not supposed to know about her abilities yet.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus." proudly explained the witch. "I can change my appearance at will, just need to concentrate."

And for the next minutes, she demonstrated various applications. Aging herself one moment, making impossible faces the next, even turning into McGonagall.

Harry whistled, impressed.

"Must be useful to sneak around after curfew." he commented, knowing full well that she'd broken the thing to kingdom come on a fairly frequent basis throughout her entire schooling.

"Harry, how can you even suggest that? I would never do something so reckless." she replied scandalized, before smiling maliciously. "But I know for a fact that some Slytherins are doing it regularly."

"As long as Filch doesn't come across himself, I think you're safe."

"Oh, never thought of that one."

"You're welcome."

The witch laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Hey, don't do that." he complained.

"Sorry, sorry." she apologized, obviously not meaning it in the slightest. "Anyway, Sprout said that you wanted to talk about the Black family?"

"Not all of it… just one man." replied the wizard, face darkening.

"Sirius." whispered Tonks, clearly uncomfortable. "Who told you about him?"

"Hagrid."

She sighed.

"And what did he tell you exactly?"

Alright, time to lay it on thick.

"That he was working for Voldemort." growled Harry, not even caring if the name was freaking out every single Puffs within hearing distance. "That he betrayed my parents and killed fourteen innocents, including another one of his supposed friend, before the Aurors managed to apprehend him and throw him in Azbakan."

"Basically everything then." observed his cousin. "Want to hear what my mother told me?"

He nodded stiffly.

"That he was innocent and probably framed by a Death Eater."

"I guess she didn't truly knew him then." snorted the wizard.

"They were cousins, Harry. They practically grew up together." insisted the witch. "And were you aware that Sirius did a runner when he was in school and went to live with your grandparents? He loved them and he loved your father, they were brothers in all but blood."

"Doesn't mean anything. It was a war, it changes people."

"Not so suddenly… not without so much as a warning."

"Why are your still defending him?" asked Harry in feint rage. "He's a mass murderer and a traitor, he's not worth it."

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?" she shouted, seriously pissed off and hair blazing red. "HE'S FAMILY!"

"So is Bellatrix!" argued the wizard.

"Don't you _dare_ compare them." she threatened him. "Bella was trialed in front of the Wizengamot and proven guilty, Sirius didn't even have that luxury."

Harry froze, seemingly at a loss for words. His mouth tried to articulate, but no sound came out of it. Finally, he blinked and his face turned colder than stone.

"He wasn't questioned?"

"Not once." confirmed Tonks. "They said that the proofs were overwhelming and left it at that. Mom tried to initiate a legal proceeding, but her disownment prevented it."

The time-traveler marked a pause, pretending to think about what he'd just heard.

"I know that I'm not strictly speaking part of the Black family –" he began. "– but I'm pretty damn close, plus I'm a victim here. So if I was to ask for a proper trial, in front of witnesses…"

A sudden intake of breath was everything he needed to know that, one, she knew where he was going with that reasoning, and two, she was gullible enough to buy his act. He was usually humble, but he deserved a god-damned award for that performance – and several slaps for the deception.

"They'll have no choice." completed the witch. "You're the Boy-who-lived, a national hero. They can't refuse you anything without causing an uprising."

"That bloody fame will finally count for something then. I'll work on a proper letter immediately." said Harry, rising from his chair. "And Nymphadora… I hope for you that your mother's right, because I won't just ask for Azkaban this time… I want the bastard who deprived me of my parents six feet under."

And on that cheerful – and one hundred percent truthful – note, he left The Sett.

* * *

Slytherins were, always had and always would be, opportunists.

It's quite understandable then that, with Harry Potter out of the common room for over an hour now, the more traditionalist students – read _Voldemort's minions in training_ – decided to gather around a lone table to complain and plot against the annoying first year.

Their discussion had started in hushed tones, but had soon turned into an angry rant. Many complained that Potter had nothing to do in their House, even stating that he was soiling it by his mere presence. He was soft and on the side of the Light, which was beyond insulting.

Some also believed that the boy had cheated, and bribed the Sorting Hat into calling him a parselmouth, simply to make himself seem more important. He was vain and enjoyed his fame, Professor Snape had been clear about it.

The most vehement of the lot was clearly Draco, who was frequently claiming that he would make his _mortal foe_ pay his disrespect. None of the others were actually listening to him though, because while Malfoy senior was clearly a powerful man, the son was nothing but an arrogant and useless prick.

"Hey, why can't we just kill him?"

Scratch that, he was arrogant, useless AND stupid.

"What?"

"He stopped the Dark Lord, he must pay for that." continued the blonde pounce, quite pleased with himself for his wise comment.

"Are you mental?" growled Miles Betchley. "We kill Potter, and then what? Dump him in the Forbidden Forest? If he disappears entirely, they _may_ think that he was a coward and fled, but if they find the corpse, we're just creating a martyr. We can't have that."

"Just destroy his body then." huffed the Malfoy heir, clearly annoyed that he had to think about everything.

"With what? _Bombarda Maxima_? _Fiendfyre_?" hissed the elder Slytherin. "It's too damn conspicuous. No, we need him alive."

"What do you propose then?" asked Marcus Flint.

"We teach him a lesson, we teach them all… and one they won't forget." explained Betchley. "We just have to hurt him… a lot. Something permanent, that will debilitate him and show them that their precious _savior_ –" he spatted the word. "– can't save them, because he can't even protect himself."

His proclamation received appreciative nods and a few vicious smirks.

"Should we do it tonight?" asked Terence Higgs.

"Tomorrow evening." reasoned Flint. "If he's attacked during a school day, the teacher will know immediately and it'll narrow down the list of suspects. If we wait until Wednesday to corner him in this very room, not only won't it reaches the professors until Monday morning, but the entire student body will be suspected. We just need to say that he came back looking like that and we're in the clear."

"Won't he go to the school nurse after his _accident_?"

"With the spell I have in mind, he'll be too busy screaming."

"But what if he snitches?"

"He won't, too bloody noble for that."

The plan was accepted and they began to work on the details, closing their sinister meeting a few minutes later.

Sad thing with Slytherins was, in addition to being opportunist, they were extremely inattentive sometimes and had a tendency to focus on the bigger picture, only to miss crucial details.

In a shaded corner of the room, a dark-skinned first year rose from his seat and discreetly left the room.

* * *

Harry wanted to shout in frustration, but Irma Pince was so much scarier than most Death Eaters that he instead resorted to cursing softly as he trashed his fourth attempt at that bloody letter. It was proving quite hard to be menacing yet somehow respectful at the same time, like a _proper_ pureblood.

"Potter."

The reincarnated wizard looked up and spotted Blaise Zabini, calmly walking into the library.

"Zabini? What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." answered his roommate, before pointing to an empty chair. "May I?"

"Huh… sure." replied the time traveler. "What can I do for you?"

"I'll get to that, but let's first talk about what _I_ can do for _you_."

Harry frowned.

"I don't like you Potter… I don't really dislike you either, but you're an unknown variable." admitted Blaise. "You're a parselmouth, your reflexes are exceptional and from what I saw of you, you always seem to know more than you should. You could lead the House, probably the school if you wanted to, but you're not even trying."

At that, he seemed to turn pensive, but his words gained a sort of angry undertone.

"I tried to understand then, what you could possibly be doing in Slytherin, but I came up blank. I'm sure of it though, the Sorting Hat sorted you with us for a reason that had nothing to do with all that social issues bullshit. You _wanted_ to be here." he accused. "So here we are, you win. I admit it, I don't understand you."

It looked like the very idea displeased him greatly.

"What I understand though, is that you're wasting your potential. Doesn't mean that _I_ have to."

So, he wanted to use him then?

Pretty bold move to just acknowledge it.

"I just happen to have overheard a rather captivating discussion in the common room, that you would no doubt find quite fascinating yourself. I'm willing to trade."

"And what would be considered motivating enough to convince you to part with that fascinating information?"

"I don't need anything from you… at the moment." smirked Blaise.

"A favor then." understood Harry.

"Indeed." confirmed his fellow wizard. "I give you this information, you owe me one. I collect it whenever I please… not on anything illegal, of course. At worst, it will be a gray area."

Wasn't all that reassuring.

"And if your little story proves to be useless?"

"Then you'll owe me nothing and _I'll_ owe you one."

Wow, he hadn't expected that one. If Blaise could actually declare this so easily, then he really wanted to hear him out.

"Magical contract?"

"Oath, we don't want to embarrass ourselves with paper trails."

Harry sighed, but nodded anyway.

"Fine, what do you know?"

Blaise smiled.

"Our dear housemates want to cripple you. I won't say more until you take that oath."

The time-traveler rubbed his brow tiredly, but knew that he had no choice.

"We both work on the wording. I don't want any loophole in this thing."

"That's acceptable."

Harry put a new paper out of his bag and they got to work. It took them close to fifteen minutes to make the thing biding enough and they proceeded to swear it immediately in a dark corner of the library.

"Higgs will ambush you tomorrow evening in the common room. Flint and Betchley asked him to amputate your wand hand." finally revealed the Zabini heir, satisfied with their agreement. "It would greatly diminish your magical abilities and the Light would lose her Champion."

For any other eleven years old, that news would have been terrifying.

Harry just took it in stride.

"He'll have to use a dark spell to prevent a possible recovery." he speculated. "Preferably one that will cauterize the wound, if he doesn't want me to die of blood loss."

"A torture spell then… _Fiery shackles_ might work." offered his roommate.

"Hmm… probably not, they would need to overpower the spell to cut through the bones."

"V _itriol_ _ic_ _flare?_ "

"More likely… I can think of a few more, but they can't possibly know them." replied Harry, mentally rehearsing curses that had yet to be developed by the resurrected Dark Lord.

Blaise sent him a look that was clearly asking 'How do _you_ know about them then?'

He thankfully didn't press the issue.

"Anything else I should know?" finally asked the time traveler.

Receiving a negative answer, he smiled.

"Excellent. Now, if I may, I have one final question for you. Would you consent to keep to yourself anything you may learn in our room? Today or in the years to come?"

Blaise didn't even hesitate about that one.

"If you and Nott do the same."

"Triple-binding oath?"

"Obviously."

"Good, let's get to it."

The two Slytherins left the library and began to walk back to The Pit. They needed to locate their roommate and proofread the new oath that would make a sanctuary out of their living quarters.

* * *

"So, we're good now?" asked Theodore.

"We are." assured Harry. "We can't tell anybody else about what we may witness in this room and can't even speak about it to one another once out of here. The oath will affect anything that is deemed important enough to warrant that secrecy, may it be by one, two or all three of us."

"So if I tried to tell Tracey that… huh..."

"My stuff is always spotless because a house-elf cleans it?" offered Harry.

Silence fell on the room…

"WHAT?" shouted Theodore after five good seconds of complete paralysis. "But that prefect girl –"

"Only said that we couldn't bribe or threaten them into helping us. I went to the kitchen and _asked_ if an elf wanted to help me. Loophole was happy to oblige."

"Loophole?" asked Blaise with an appreciative smile.

"Well, his name is Loopy but I _really_ wanted to place that joke."

Theodore stared at his friend, wondering if he was serious. Ultimately, he decided that asking wouldn't be worth it.

"Right… so if I tried to tell Tracey about Loopy…"

"The oath would enforce itself, making you babble. If you don't stop after thirty seconds, it will start to suffocate you. Once you run out of breath, you die." deadpanned Blaise.

"Unless we all agree to it, or something actively tries to force the secret out, by mean of a potion, spell, physical violence or psychological torture." added Harry. "In the first case, Tracey would still need to be in here. In the second, the oath would just mute you."

"And for other means of communication? Writing, miming and such?"

"Generalized paralysis."

"Sounds pretty safe... anything else?"

"One thing." replied the time traveler. "Ever heard of _Legilimency_?"

"Mind-reading, right?"

"More or less. The oath's useless against it, you'll have to practice _Occlumency_ and get some mental shields up. I'm already working on it myself, by the way."

" _And you're rubbish at it."_ teased Nathaniel, left on Harry's bed.

"Thanks Nat."

"And _he_ doesn't need the oath because?" asked Theodore.

"He's already bounded by dozens of other restrictions, and have neither hands nor wand to cast an oath anyway."

"Those are good reasons."

"Right?" smiled the time-traveler. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to our door."

Not letting them enough time to react, he crossed the distance separating him from the entrance and hissed as he knelt before it.

 _[I need your help.]_

His roommates almost jumped when the snake motif engraved on the doorknob hissed back.

 _[Is it time?]_

 _[Not yet, tomorrow. Warn the others.]_

 _[At once, Speaker.]_

In a swift motion, the engraving seemed to slither out of the handle, leaving it in favor of the door itself. From there, it dived straight to the ground and disappeared under the panel.

"Wow… creepier..." whispered Theodore.

Harry rolled his eyes.


	11. Don't Let The Snake Bite

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _Sleep tight._

* * *

Don't Let The Snake Bite

* * *

"Morgana."

Spoken seemingly at random in a dead end deep within the dungeons, that vocal command caused a blank wall to collapse unto itself, revealing an access to The Pit, the Slytherin common room.

The Greengrass heir readjusted the bag on her right shoulder, ready to pass the threshold, when a male voice called out for her.

"Daphne!"

The blonde witch stopped instantly, turned around and glared at an approaching Harry Potter, Sorting Hat on his head.

Her friend was an oddity, both as a Slytherin and as a wizard. Intelligent beyond anything she'd ever seen in someone her age, yet totally capable of being childish. Fast on his feet and on a broom, with reflexes that would make even her father, accomplished duelist, whistle in appreciation. Excellent grasp of the spells he knew and strong tendencies to learn new ones in the blink of an eye, with that annoying glimpse in his eyes showing that he was still holding back.

That was another oddity, he was holding back. Not his skills, but how much he knew about the castle, the professors, the Wizardry World… He was supposed to be a muggle-raised wizard, he'd even confirmed this to her in the Express, yet he knew things, occasionally said things, that many pureblood wizards didn't even know about their own community.

It made no sense at all.

She had a disturbing feeling that he was… toying with them, constantly playing some obscure partition only known to him and Nathaniel Hatfield.

And right now, she had the even more disturbing feeling that him using her first name instead of her last name had also been a calculated move.

"What do you want, Potter?" she growled, a bit annoyed.

" _Just to share a word of advice, Ms. Greengrass."_ replied not Harry, but Nathaniel. _"You may want to be as far away from the common room as possible in the immediate future."_

What? Why? Had something happened, or was something… about to happen?

Her glare intensified slightly, now directed equally toward the wizard and the hat.

"What are you two up to this time?"

"Nothing technically illegal, Greengrass."

And he was back to using her last name, which meant that his _lapse_ had been deliberate and he really didn't want her in that room.

"Potter…" she said uneasily.

That dunderhead was about to do something stupid, she just knew it. Stupid enough that he'd warned her, and probably equally dangerous. For the Slytherins, or for him… there lied the question.

"Don't worry, I'm just about to remind our fellow snakes that their actions have consequences." said the wizard.

Bad feeling, again…

The witch sighed.

"If you're not here in five minutes, I'm coming in."

The wizard nodded with a smile and entered, closing the passageway behind him.

Daphne grabbed her wand and used the Tempus charm.

One second, two second, three second…

* * *

Terence Higgs was… baffled.

His mission was supposed to be pretty simple, he was to stand on guard by the common room entrance and wait for that stupid muggle-lover Potter. When the little pest would walk past him, he would immobilize him with a Body-Bind Curse and use V _itriolic flare_ to melt his wand hand, magical abilities and undeserved fame.

The Dark Lord would be avenged, the world would cower in fear once more and _he_ would be praised for his achievement.

Except that Potter had defied all expectations and actually come straight to him, to talk about Quidditch of all things!

"… thing is, I'm a bit reluctant to take the trials. It's the constant training, not sure if I'll be able to handle it _and_ keep up with my homework at the same time. See what I mean?"

Terence could only nod stupidly.

What was he supposed to do? Cursing Potter in the back was supposed to add a level of anonymity on the caster and solidify the alibi of the entire House, but now… should he just curse Potter in the face?

"Maybe I can just _not_ join the team. Buy a broom and fly it out sometimes, but without the responsibilities and all."

" _You w_ _ould_ _miss_ _the_ _thrill of the chase."_ commented the Sorting Hat.

"I'm sure that I can think of something and I wouldn't do that if I were you Flint."

Terence blinked.

Flint had clearly seen the unexpected situation and decided to act himself, except that Potter had somehow seen him without even looking in his direction.

" _I give him five points."_ said the Hat, not looking at the surprised and frozen Flint either. _"Yes, it was pretty stupid, but at least he tried to save his friend. It's very Hufflepuff and deserves a reward."_

"No, it's not his style. He just saw an opportunity to take the honors without exposing himself too much."

" _Oh… well then, I'm taking those points back for cowardice."_

"How did you…?" began Flint in a whisper, only to be interrupted by an angry hissing noise.

 _[Can we bite them now, Speaker?]_

 _[Can we?]_

The two attackers gulped when they identified the sources of the hissing. Two golden brown and black snakes were loosely coiled around their legs.

And then Potter blew their minds by actually hissing back.

 _[Depends on_ _t_ _h_ _e_ _m, really.]_

He really was a Parselmouth? A light wizard like him? How was that possible?

By now, the entire common room had fallen silent, the students watching the commotion with a mixture of awe, fear and a bunch of other emotions.

" _I warned you."_ smirked the Sorting Hat.

"And now _I'M_ warning you." said Potter with a smile.

Smile of not, his voice was devoid of any warmth and effectively froze every student on their feet.

"Some among you don't like me, I get it... but the thing is, my little friends don't like you either. You just tried to attack their Speaker in his home and if I wasn't so merciful, Flint and Higgs would both be in big trouble." he explained. "It probably wouldn't kill them, but they would stay in the infirmary for a couple of days."

" _You would give them to Poppy?"_ asked the hat with a smile. " _Man, you ARE evil."_

"Nah, Mme Pomfrey is too sweet." smiled back the wizard. "I'd rather sic Moony and Padfoot on them."

"… _you're a scary kid."_

"And you're repeating yourself, Nat."

The surreal discussion was suddenly interrupted when the front door opened, a tense Daphne Greengrass standing behind it with her wand out.

" _You can lower you_ _r_ _wand,_ _Ms._ _Greengrass."_ immediately said the Sorting Hat. _"Everything is under control."_

She relaxed slightly, only to gasp in astonishment when she saw the reptiles.

"What the…? Are those Caspian Cobras?"

"Yep."

"Potter, those things can blind someone for life." she said, sounding a bit apprehensive. "Their venom kills in –"

"Eight minutes, I know. Just enough time to reach the infirmary."

A collective shiver traveled through the crowd.

The audience firmly believed the Sorting Hat now, Potter was a scary kid.

"So, back to you two." continued the wizard, looking back at his assailants with narrow eyes. "A watcher, an ambusher. It would have been a sound plan, if those two little guys weren't constantly looking after me."

The two cobras hissed menacingly and the Slytherins swallowed.

"Here's my offer. You leave me alone out of fear and I do the same out of the goodness of my heart. But try something like that again and you're done."

"You wouldn't kill us." replied Flint with defiance. "You're too bloody noble for that."

"You're right, I wouldn't kill you." recognized Potter, before hissing once more. _[_ _Dinner's ready_ _!]_

A nightmare awoke.

Snakes, dozens of snakes of all sizes and colors, revealed themselves all around the room. Some were coming out of engravings, or paintings, letting themselves fall from the chandeliers, the most massive one slowly slithering out of the House blazon mounted on top of the fireplace mantle.

"They would." he continued without a hint of emotion in his voice. "Quickly if you only go after me, slowly and extremely painfully if you try to take it out on Theodore, Tracey or Greengrass here. Same goes for Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom."

With a small hiss, all the snakes including the two cobras returned to their former position, leaving no trace of what had to be the biggest threat ever expressed in The Pit.

"Now excuse me, I have more pressing matters than you two." he said. "Come along Greengrass."

And without looking back to see if she was indeed following him, Potter walked out of the room.

Greengrass reacted after five seconds, shaking herself out of her stupor and running after her friend.

The other Slytherins remained frozen in place for a moment, bedlam only erupting once the front door closed behind the witch.

In among the chaos, Tracey Davis excused herself from the discussion she'd been engrossed in with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode and ran up to the boys' dormitory. She had to find Theo, _urgently_.

* * *

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

"Calm down Greengrass." answered Harry, not even stopping.

"CALM? AFTER WHAT YOU JUST DID? HOW COULD I BE CALM?"

" _Breathing should do it."_ smiled Nathaniel.

"Lowering your voice would help too."

"You're not helping your case, Potter!" growled the witch. "What were you thinking?"

"That it was long overdue."

"Potter!"

"I'm serious, Greengrass. They hate my guts for what I supposedly did to their boss, they were bound to do something stupid sooner or later."

"So you chose to beat them to it?" asked Daphne sarcastically.

The wizard shook his head and took a flight of stairs.

"No, it wasn't a preemptive strike, it was self-defense."

" _Messrs Higgs and Flint were about to cripple him."_ explained the hat.

"What?"

" _Wand-hand a_ _mputation._ " he precised.

Her anger didn't fade, it was redirected.

"THOSE BLOODY BASTARDS!"

"Stop yelling!" snapped the wizard. "You're going to rouse the entire castle."

Daphne complied, but not without grumbling a really long series of curses.

"Where are we going exactly?" she asked, two minutes of inventive insults later.

"I need a word with the Weasley twins."

"The pranksters? But… they're in Gryffindor."

"And?"

"How do you intend to find them?" asked the witch. "Unless you can somehow locate their common room, there's just no way…"

She finally registered his amused smile and the metaphorical _Lumos_ went off in her head.

"You know where it is."

He nodded, his smile widening.

"Of course you do." she sighed, before looking at Nathaniel. "You told him, right?"

" _Something like that."_ smirked the hat.

"And where is it exactly?"

"See for yourself." replied Harry, suddenly stopping in front of a painting.

From inside the frame, a proud looking woman was looking critically at the two Slytherins.

"A good day to you, Fat Lady." bowed the wizard. "We would like to talk with two of your charges. May we enter, please?"

"Password?" she asked with a frown.

"Caput Draconis."

"… you may enter."

"Thank you."

The two Slytherins moved past the opening and entered The Den.

A bunch of red and gold students were hanging around the room, way too used to the noise made by their front door to even bother looking at the new arrivals.

That is, until Harry cleared his throat loudly, catching their attention.

"Excuse me?"

A dense silence fell on a common room for the second time that day, but whereas Slytherin had been muted by fear, Gryffindor was instead muted by incredulity.

There couldn't really be two snakes in their sacrosanct tower… right?

"I'm looking for Fred and George Weasley. Are they here and, if so, can someone please notice them that I have a proposal for them?"

Mentioning the twins seemed to do the trick for a few of the students, as if their mere involvement could somehow explain and demystify any situation.

"They're here, I… I'll get them." said their friend Lee Jordan.

"Thank you." nodded Harry, as he watched the wizard disappear up the stairs leading to the dorms.

"What do you want with my brothers?" suddenly growled a familiar voice, cutting through the supernatural silence left in Lee's wake.

From his seat by the fireplace, Ron Weasley was directing a distrustful look at the two Slytherins.

"Nothing pernicious, I assure you." replied the time-traveler on the same cordial tone he'd adopted since passing the threshold. "I merely need their help."

"And why would they help you?"

"Because we asked nicely?" offered Daphne.

"Nice? You're Slytherins, you don't do nice!"

"You do know your paternal grandmother was in Slytherin, right?" countered Harry.

Although, according to her son, it wasn't necessarily an acceptable counterargument and more of a prime illustration – not exactly on Walburga Black's level, but still.

"What?" gasped the redhead, before frowning even more intensely. "You're lying!"

"It's registered in the library, look it up." smiled the time traveler. "Or you can just ask your father."

Ron's look was equally shocked, disbelieving and… was that betrayal?

"Besides, as welcome as it would be, I didn't ask for _your_ help." reminded Harry. "I asked for your brothers'. I'm afraid then, that your biased views on wizardry labels don't have a say in this matter."

Okay, so he was being voluntarily controversial and provocative with his old friend, but it was for his own good. Ron simply _had_ to blow a casket and take the time to cool down before he could think properly.

"You little…" began the Gryffindor, his skin taking a dangerously angry red coloration.

"RON!" interfered Fred – or was it George? – from the staircase.

"Stop it!" added George – or maybe Fred. – standing by his brother.

The twins, always there to save the day.

"But..."

"R~on!" insisted both brothers at the same time.

"Fine!"

And the boy went back to his game of chess, grumbling and steaming.

"We're sorry for our brother." apologized one of the twin as he shook Harry's hand.

"He lacks manners… and a brain." explained the other, planting a chaste kiss on top of Daphne's hand, before switching with his brother.

"So…"

"how may we…"

"help you today…"

"Ms. Greengrass…"

"Mr. Potter…"

"and Mr. Hatfield?"

Daphne's eyes had gone wide, the witch being unacquainted with their legendary verbal assaults.

Nathaniel and Harry were unfazed thought.

"You'll probably hear about it tomorrow, but I just shook things up in The Pit."

The redheads' eyes were instantly shining.

"And what…"

"exactly…"

"did you do to…"

"shake things up?"

" _He_ _used parseltongue to activate the castle's defenses."_ explained Nathaniel. _"_ _A_ _nd sic_ _ced_ _a bunch of snakes on two dark wizard wannabes_ _who'd just tried to_ _wound_ _him_ _severely_ _."_

They whistled simultaneously, ignoring the numerous gasps emitted by eavesdroppers and Ron's predictable 'I _knew_ it!'

"Impressive."

"Thanks." smiled Harry. "Sadly, I can only do that around the dungeons."

"No snakes in the rest of the castle." understood the brothers.

"Precisely." confirmed the wizard. "And it would have been fine… if I'd been the only recipient of my Housemates' _affection_. But the thing is, I have friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. They could be targeted too and I can't let them unprotected."

"Hermione Granger…" began Fred – but again, it could be George.

"and Neville Longbottom…" carried on George – or Fred.

"and you want us to look after them." they concluded together.

"Mostly Hermione, I have someone else in mind for Neville." said Harry "But that's the gist of it."

As the Gryffindors around them began to whisper furiously, the Weasleys looked at each other in silence for a few seconds.

"We're not cheap." finally stated Fred – or George masquerading as Fred.

"Name your price." replied Harry with a huge smile.

"Seventh floor." whispered a redhead.

"Left corridor." added the other.

The smile disappeared at the speed of light and Nathaniel began to shake in fear.

" _I WARNED YOU!_ _"_ mentally panicked the hat. _"But you didn't listen and now we're DOOMED!"_

"Shut up." growled Harry, looking for a way out of this mess.

After thirty seconds of unsuccessful reflection, the wizard sighed. They'd named their price and it was so high that the only thing that could potentially rival it was to let them enter the Chamber of Secret.

Once again, he had no choice.

"I don't know how you found out about that and I'm not going to ask." he said, denying any knowledge about the Marauder's map. "What I _will_ ask though, is a vow to never reveal anything about that to anyone… ever."

At that he pointed a finger not only at the twins, but also at the blonde Slytherin who'd recovered a few moments ago and was looking at him questioningly.

"That goes for you too."

"But… what about Tracey and Theo?" asked the girl, obviously disliking the idea of hiding something from her best friend and… her acquaintance, she guessed.

"Trust me Daphne, you don't want to see either of them with that kind of knowledge."

Not only were the two Slytherins already curious and excitable enough by themselves, they also seemed – as incredible as it sounded – to reinforce one another's bubbly personalities. Those over-the-top behaviors of theirs were rather amusing, but the twins were more than too much already and he didn't want to know what his housemates could get up to with the Room of Requirement.

"… fine." the witch humphed unhappily, convinced once again of his seriousness by his use of her first name.

Having followed the conversation, the brothers exchanged a glance, followed by a barely perceptible nod.

"We have a deal."

"Excellent." said Harry. "Now, I have to visit The Sett. If you're not particularly busy, you can accompany us and we'll go to the seventh floor immediately after. If it's inconvenient for you, we can just come back later."

They didn't even look at each other this time.

"We're coming."

* * *

"Wotcher, Harry!"

"Hey there, Nymphadora."

The time-traveler had to smother a laugh when the Metamorphmagus grimaced, her hair turning light orange for a moment. She hadn't corrected him at their first encounter, but doing it afterward would just paint her in a bad light and sadden her baby cousin, something that she most certainly wouldn't do. Which meant that he now had a sort of free pass to Annoyance-town.

"I'm sure that you know Fred and George Weasley by now, but let me introduce you to Daphne Greengrass, a good friend and fellow Slytherin." said Harry, gesturing at his three companions. "Greengrass, this is my good cousin, Nymphadora Tonks."

"Good cousin?" asked Daphne, her eyebrow raised.

"Through my paternal grandmother, Dorea Black. It sadly also means that I'm related to Draco, making him the bad cousin."

"Aouch, we're…"

"sorry for your loss."

The Sorting Hat snickered and Harry smiled at the twins.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with a little something." said the time-traveler. "I… well, kicked Slytherin House in the nuts would be the proper formulation and I fear that they may take it out on my friends. If it only implicated Theodore Nott and Greengrass here, I would be able to handle it, but I'm friend with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger too, and they are a bit out of my reach. The twins will do what they can for Hermione, but I'd appreciate it if you could look after Neville for me."

"Oh… huh, sure, no problem Harry."

The twins gasped.

"You're agreeing?"

"Without asking for anything?"

"How can you lose an opportunity like this?"

"Well, he's my cousin..." began to explain Tonks.

"Hufflepuff." they sighed, shaking their heads in disappointment.

"Don't mind them." said Harry with a smile. "They just ripped me off and want to brag about it."

"We would never do that!" refuted either Fred or George.

"But now that you talk about it..." smirked the other.

"See?"

"What did you promise them?" asked Tonks, clearly amused by their antics as she was now sporting blond hair that could rival with Daphne's.

"A hidden room they don't know about."

" _Our doom."_ corrected Nathaniel ominously.

"He's… not completely wrong." grimaced the wizard.

"Is it dangerous?"

"For them, no." Harry reassured her. "For Hogwarts… it might just be. Their pranking abilities will go through the roof."

The twins were beaming.

The girls… not so much.

"Isn't that super irresponsible?" asked the worried Metamorphmagus, her short locks shifting into a light blue.

"As long as they don't target my friends, it's not my problem." shrugged Harry. "Unless we're provoking them, then it's fair game."

" _You're a scary kid."_

Harry looked up at the hat on his head.

"Twice in a day… are you getting senile or something?"

" _Nah, you're just getting scarier."_

* * *

"Welcome… to the Room of Requirement." theatrically announced Harry, showing… a blank wall.

His audience wasn't impressed.

" _Potter… the door."_

"Oh… right, the door."

He began to pace and a door appeared out of nowhere, seemingly growing out of the wall.

"Sorry about that." apologized the wizard, scratching his head in embarrassment. "After you."

Daphne went first, followed by Nymphadora who'd tagged along. Harry waited until the twins had entered to go himself, closing the door behind them.

"Harry… where are we?" asked Tonks, more than a bit freaked out by her immediate surroundings.

"The Slytherin common room… a replica of it." answered her cousin. "And that… is a copy of the Gryffindor tower."

Around them, the entire room shifted from a dark green theme to a blazing red and gold one. It stayed like this for a few seconds, before turning into a bright room where bronze and blue were the main colors.

"The Nest in all of its glory." smiled Harry. "Now you have the entire set."

Harry began to enumerate places from all around Hogwarts and the room followed his instructions.

"Dumbledore's office… Professor Sinistra's classroom… the Great Hall… Hagrid' hut…"

The girls were already gaping and the Weasley twins openly salivating, but what happened next finally sent their mind into overdrive.

"Let's complicate this a bit, shall we?"

" _Doomed."_ whispered Nathaniel.

"I'd like a four-poster bed, a chimney connected to the floo network and books about… let's say Occlumency." proposed Harry, sending a meaningful look at Daphne.

A comfy bed materialized out of thin air, a small chest containing eleven books resting on one side of it and a fireplace from which hung a small pouch of green powder appearing on the other.

Four jaws dropped.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement." repeated the time-traveler. "The elves call it the Come-and-Go room, as it normally only appears when someone is in desperate need of something. You can bypass that, as you just witnessed, by pacing three time in front of it with a clear mental image of what you want. The resulting room will be suited to your desires and can then be altered by a mere thought. Be warned though, the room respects Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, which means that it can't create food, gold and a bunch of other stuff. It can still summon from around the castle though, if you know what you want and where it is stored. As for the furniture, those are mostly transfigurated, the rest being summoned from the Room of Hidden Things much like those books."

His friends had visibly recovered, because the four of them asked the exact same question at the exact same time.

"There's a Room of Hidden Things?"

Harry answered by having the room morph once again. Piles of partly broken stuff were suddenly surrounding them completely, some even reaching the ceiling.

" _The castle uses this place to store anything that is lost or entirely forgotten by students and staff alike."_ stated Nathaniel.

"And a good part of this is cursed to the teeth, no touching." added Harry, receiving four nods. "Good, now let's deal with that non-disclosure oath."

The Room of Hidden Things disappeared, a random classroom taking its place.

"I don't want any of you talking about or taking anyone to this place, unless it's a life-or-death situation." began Harry, sitting in a materialized couch. "You're never using anything without having the room triple-check it for curses either and you avoid irresponsible researches that may have fatal consequences."

A roll of parchment appeared in his hand, filled with the oath he'd just drafted.

"Oh… thanks."


	12. Cheater

Welcome back, dear readers, to " _Infinity Keeps Me Alive"_

 _If it's unfair for everyone, it's fair._

* * *

Cheater

* * *

\- Complete and send a letter to Amelia Bones, requesting a trial for Sirius: check.

\- Write a second letter, this one to inform Remus of the injustice brought upon the Black heir and ask for his testimony, either to prove Sirius innocent or have him properly convicted: check.

\- Compose a final letter to Gringotts, in order to iron out the last bits of their scheme regarding his parents' wills: check.

\- Prevent Tonks – the Metamorphmagus had finally cracked up and threatened him into using her last name – and Daphne from strangling the twins whenever the redhead menaces decided to mess around with the Room of Requirement: … still a work in progress, but the brothers were still alive after more than three weeks so it was pretty encouraging.

Satisfied with his check-list, Harry Potter grabbed Nathaniel from atop his bed's headboard and exited his room.

He was running late already and Daphne would blow a fuse if he made her wait any longer than necessary. Theo and Blaise had vacated the dorm almost an hour ago and Tracey… was probably long gone too, the brunette witch simply couldn't seem to stay still for any period of time.

* * *

"You're late, Potter." growled Daphne.

The common room had been deserted for quite some time and the lonely witch had resorted, as she waited for the infuriatingly tardy wizard, to furiously pacing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the male quarters.

Suffice it to say that she wasn't feeling particularly tolerant right now.

"I know." replied Harry in a slightly sad voice. "I'm just… not really into this whole Halloween thing."

The Greengrass heiress was taken aback by his mournful tone, and only when she saw his frozen face did she finally connected his tardiness to his personal history.

"… your parents" she realized, her ire soundly squashed. "I'm sorry."

"You're not responsible." replied the boy with a strained smile. "Come on, let's get something to eat. I'm starving."

* * *

The two Slytherin had barely exited their common room when the voice of a familiar seventh-year witch made itself heard.

"You're late, Harry."

Now didn't that sound familiar.

"Tonks? What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, cousin." she smiled, shoulder-length curls a bright shade of yellow. "I figured that someone would have to physically drag you to dinner today and I wanted to volunteer."

" _So you just decided to sta_ _nd_ _by the entrance until_ _he_ _showed up."_ summarized Nathaniel. _"_ _How dedicated, Miss Tonks."_

"But what if I'd already left?" asked Harry. "What if I'd just locked myself in my room?"

"Your roommates confirmed that you were in here –" she brushed off. "– and I knew that Miss Greengrass wouldn't have let you brood."

"Brood?" frowned the wizard.

Daphne nodded, amused.

"Brood." repeated the Metamorphmagus. "So it was just a matter of time and I have plenty to spare. Now hurry up, I want to eat my fill before they close the Great Hall."

And without further ado, witches, wizard and hat proceeded to exit the school's deserted dungeons, their path leading them to the Great Hall and the feast waiting there.

"We're not _that_ late." countered Harry. "And even if we were, we could just go to the kitchen."

"What kitchen?"

He stopped dead in his track and stared at the Metamorphmagus

"… you're… actually serious?"

"What?" asked the confused witch, her hair instantly turning gray.

"You never… never found…" snorted the wizard, before promptly dissolving into laughter. "Hahaha!"

"Okay, what's up with you?" frowned the redhead – she was getting there anyway – Hufflepuff, surprised by her cousin's reaction.

"Nothing… nothing…" he denied not so convincingly. "It's just… haha, you spent over six years here and… hahaaa… you never… ahahaha, never found the kitchen. Hahahaaaa."

"And that's funny?"

" _It is."_ chuckled the Sorting Hat. _"It really is."_

"Why?"

Harry took pity of his cousin and, taking a deep breath to calm himself, put an end to her sufferings.

"Because the entrance is something like ten meters away from the Hufflepuff common room." he explained, a wide smile on his face.

And before she could assimilate that information, he resumed walking toward the Great Hall.

All the teachers and other students were probably there already, eating profusely.

Well, all but one.

Harry knew that Quirrell was running around too, probably already guiding a troll through the school's passageways. The possessed DADA professor had a sort of understanding with the beasts, they listened to him extremely easily… probably because of a similar IQ level.

And tonight, he would use one as a diversion, giving himself enough time to run straight to the third floor and attempt to pass Fluffy. In another life, the disgusting beast had even tried to kill Hermione.

The time-traveler was thinking about this unpleasant bit of history, wondering how it would play out this time and ignoring his cousin's outraged rant, when his answer came inthe most unexpected of ways.

 _[Kill her.]_

Harry froze, eyes wide in disbelief. Nathaniel was at a loss of words, his mouth moving silently in stupor. Tonks, who had been trying to catch the pair for the last minute or so, bumped into the suddenly immobile wizard and fell the ground, yelping. Daphne moved over to her housemate just in time to hear him whisper a single word, in a voice so haunted, so unbelievably horrified, that it sent shivers down her spine.

"No..."

 _[_ _Isolate_ _the_ _shapeless one_ _…_ _tear her apart._ _]_

"Is something wrong, Potter?" asked the worrying blonde.

Well, it depended.

Was he presently listening to the voice of a category five creature that only two persons in the entire school, if not the entire British Wizarding Community, could hear? Three if you counted Nathaniel, who could understand it through his thoughts?

Also, had he understood it properly and was the thing after Tonks?

If the answers were yes, then something was wrong alright.

"Please, tell me it's just a stupid joke." almost pleaded the wizard, ignoring the other Slytherin completely.

"Harry?" tried Tonks, her hair oscillating between grayish and washed-out blue.

 _[Must kill her… will kill her.]_

The hat cursed.

The wizard chocked slightly, producing some kind of sob mixed with a nervous laugh… then he threw his head back and yelled at the ceiling.

"THAT'S CHEATING YOU NOSELESS BASTARD SON OF A SQUIB!"

* * *

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, a student suddenly noticed that something was amiss.

Unlike Harry and Nathaniel, he wasn't hearing a murderous voice or reading the mind of someone who was. He simply was quite perceptive and the absence of his newest friends – Tonks didn't count, he'd known her for years now – was enough for his brain to identify the abnormal situation.

"Forge?"

"Is something wrong Gred?"

"I… think so, yes."

"Potter?"

"And Greengrass." he added. "And Tonks, they're all missing."

Forge thought about it for a second.

"His parents died on Halloween." he reminded his twin. "I can't really see Harry celebrating today."

"So what, he's boycotting and they're keeping him company?"

"Probably." nodded Forge. "They must be in their common room, the kitchen, the Room… or maybe – and please brother mine, never tell Tonks I suggested this – in a broom closet"

Gred looked intensely at the front door for an entire minute, after what he shook his head.

"No." he whispered. "I don't know why, but I have a bad feeling. Something's up, trust me about this..."

Forge frown.

He'd only ever seen Gred act like this once before, right before they'd been caught trying to force Ron under an Unbreakable Vow. His brother had told him that something bad was about to happen and he'd soon been proven right, when their father had given them the spanking of a lifetime.

He emptied his plate in five seconds top and rose from his seat.

"Come on, let's make sure that this idiot isn't dragging Tonks and poor Ms. Greengrass into anything stupid."

A grateful nod later, the two twins were isolating themselves in an out-of-the-way alcove, around a piece of old parchment.

"You took the map with you?" asked Forge with astonishment.

"A presentiment." shrugged Gred, activating the device.

His brother was seriously afraid now.

If the map was involved, then stupid just didn't cut it anymore…

* * *

"Okay, here's the plan" instructed Harry. "Tonks, you're the bait."

"I'm WHA –"

" _Stupefy."_

The Metamorphmagus collapsed to the floor, unconsciousness stripping her hair down to a neutral black.

"Good." nodded the wizard.

"GOOD?!" yelled a shocked Daphne. "Potter, what are you doing?"

"My part." he replied gravely. "And you get to do yours. Go to Hagrid's and bring me a rooster."

"I… what?"

"Bring. Me. A. Rooster." he repeated. "Did I mispronounce?"

"A rooster?" insisted the witch, utterly lost.

The wizard sighed and pointed at the ceiling.

"You heard that thing?"

"What thing?" she asked.

"Precisely, you don't know what we're facing, but I do." replied the time-traveler. "Trust me Daphne, we need a rooster."

"Trust you?" she repeated incredulously. "YOU JUST STUNNED YOUR COUSIN!"

"I just _saved her life_." he growled.

" _I'm sorry Ms. Greengrass, but he's_ _telling the truth_ _."_ said Nathaniel.

"Can't you take two damn minutes to explain?" growled the witch, her patience running thin.

"We don't have two minutes, the school is in mortal peril." countered Harry. "Now off you go, take Nat with you and no matter what happens, don't look."

Not letting her enough time to complain, he put the hat on her head and pushed it as low as possible, blocking her eyes.

And after twenty seconds of struggle, when she finally managed to extract her head from the leathery trap, Tonks and her friend – though she was seriously beginning to reconsider that – were nowhere in sight.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was pissed.

Not only was she starving, that idiot Potter was also making her steal a rooster from the school without so much as an explanation.

" _In twelve meters, turn left at 25°."_

Oh, and he was making her do it entirely blind, Hatfield obscuring her view and guiding her around the building, to _protect her_ had said the hat.

" _Take a step to the right or you'll go straight into a suit of armor."_

She was _SO_ hexing Potter for that.

* * *

"Greengrass has just left the castle." Forge informed his brother, following the Slytherin on the Marauder's Map. "The other two?"

"They're on the second floor and… wait, isn't that Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" asked Gred.

"It is." confirmed his twin as he watched the dots labeled Harry James Potter and Nymphadora Tonks stand still in the haunted lavatory. "What are they doing in there?"

Gred was about to answer that he had no bloody idea when the dots disappeared entirely, making him groan.

"Not again."

* * *

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"Sorry Greengrass, I remembered about Fawkes when I reached the Chamber." apologized Harry, a flaming bird on his shoulder and a more mundane one in his arms.

The blonde took a deep breath and promised herself that she would hexing him not once, but twice.

"What Chamber?" she asked, barely containing her anger. "And where's your cousin?"

" _Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secret."_ provided Nathaniel. _"_ _And we left Miss Tonks there."_

"You found Slytherin's…" began Daphne, only to stop mid-sentence. "You know what, no, don't answer that."

" _She's learning."_

"Shut up." hissed the witch. "Now what's the bloody rooster for?"

"Basilisk hunting." replied the time-traveler, seizing her shoulder.

She had no time to protest, her body vanishing in a sudden blaze.

* * *

"Aaaand, they're gone." commented Forge.

Gred began to massage his brow… Potter was giving him a headache.

* * *

"So… this is the Chamber of Secret." said Daphne, gesturing at the vast room they'd just appeared in through flame-travel.

Harry nodded.

"And there's a millennium-old basilisk in there."

He nodded again.

"AND YOU WANT TO FIGHT IT? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

" _Something like that."_ grinned Nathaniel, now back on Harry's head.

"Don't start, Nat." warned the time traveler. "And I'm not fighting anything in there, Greengrass. It would put the two of you –" he gestured at the prone form of Tonks, sprawled on the Chamber's cold floor with the Headmaster's phoenix calmly nesting on her head. "– in harm's way and I'd rather avoid getting a dislocated shoulder and temporary mortal poisoning."

"Temporary..." mumbled the puzzled blonde.

"So no, I'm not going to take Slytherin's snake down with the Sword of Gryffindor, poetic justice be damned. I'm totally using the rooster cheat code on that one, thank you very much."

"You found the Sword of –"

"Catch." interrupted Harry, taking the artifact out of Nathaniel and throwing it to the witch, pommel first.

She grabbed it awkwardly and spent the next minute looking at the weapon, struggling to accept the fact that she was holding one of the lost legacies of the Founders while standing in the middle of another.

Then the rooster squeaked and her trance was broken straightaway.

"What's the…? Did your rooster just squeak?"

The wizard groaned.

"It's not a rooster, it's a mouse. All the real ones were killed and I had to transfigure something."

" _Needs more work."_ commented the Sorting Hat.

"She interrupted me." tried to justify his wearer.

"What do you need a rooster for anyway?" asked Daphne.

"Its crow is fatal to Basilisks." he explained, resuming his wand-waving around the struggling volatile. "We help it a bit with a _Sonorus_ and it does the job for us. Now let me concentrate."

The blond Slytherin had to admit that it sounded a lot more reasonable than a deadly fight against the mythical creature.

"Okay, that should do it." said the wizard, flicking his wand one last time before releasing the transfigured animal.

And indeed, the ex-mouse began to squawk like a proper rooster.

"Excellent, now the _Sonorus_ –"

Another charm was layered on the animal.

"– and we just have to make it crow. The pipes should reverberate the sound all around the school."

"And how do you make it crow exactly?"

"Well..." began the wizard, glancing at the Sword of Gryffindor.

"No, find something else." dismissed Daphne, knowing where he was going with this. "We're not skewering that poor mouse and that's final."

"We don't have the time to be picky." he retorted. "The basilisk could show up at any moment now."

"That thing is coming?" she paled. "Here?"

"It seems intent on killing _the shapeless one_." nodded Harry. "I did say Tonks was the bait, didn't I?"

"But… why would it tried to –"

"Because Tom wanted a diversion and knows how to hold a grudge." her growled. "And because Tonks is the half-blood daughter of a _mudblood_ and a _blood traitor_ , who also happens to be both a friend of mine and a distantly-related cousin, making her every single one of his favorite targets at once."

The blonde Slytherin was about to ask who this Tom character was when the sound of stone – scales, those were scales – grinding on stone echoed around the Chamber, followed by a nerve-wracking hiss.

"Shit." cursed the wizard. "Incoming!"

" _Close your eyes."_ advised Nathaniel quite uselessly, as the witch had already proceeded to do just that.

She felt her housemates pry the sword from her hands and tried to protest.

"Potter!"

"Not now, Daphne." he growled. " _Accio_ rooster."

The bird squawked indignantly as it was manhandled by the summoning charm, making the approaching basilisk hiss in displeasure. Had he recognized the threat?

It certainly seemed so, as it began to discuss with Harry, using short, angry hisses.

"Over my dead body." concluded the determined wizard after several seconds, switching back to English.

Daphne heard him swing his sword, her closed eyelids not doing anything to help shield her from the perturbing wet noise of metal cutting into flesh and blood splattering on the cold, hard ground…

A wall of sound hit her head on and she felt her legs give out under her.

* * *

An earsplitting and tortured crow resonated around Hogwarts, immediately followed by the most horrible, most deafening screeching sound students, staff members and house elves alike had ever heard.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" shouted Forge, furiously rubbing his ears to stop that annoying ringing noise in his head.

"SOUNDED LIKE ANIMAL CRUELTY." yelled back Gred, remembering how Scabbers had once shrieked in a similar manner, if at a lower volume.

If Potter had nothing to do with this, he would eat the Marauder's Map.

* * *

" _Remembered that time when y_ _ou_ _sicced a bunch of snakes on a pair of jerks_ _and joked about_ _feed_ _ing_ _them_ _to a werewolf,_ _right before furnishing the Weasleys twins with the Room of Requirement, forevermore convincing me_ _that you couldn't actually get_ _any_ _scarier_ _?_ _"_ mirthfully asked Nathaniel, not bothered by the insanely powerful crowing. _"_ _Well congratulation, y_ _ou_ _just_ _proved me wrong by torturing a defenseless rooster and blowing your own eardrums up, along with everyone else's._ _"_

"OKAY, SO I MAY HAVE OVERPOWERED THAT _SONORUS_ A BIT." admitted Harry in a loud voice, his hearing temporarily damaged due to his proximity to the charmed rooster.

"YOU THINK, POTTER?" angrily shouted Daphne. "AS SOON AS WE GET OUT OF HERE, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."

Harry began to contemplate letting her cool off in the Chamber for a few hours. Surely Tonks could use the company, right?

"AT LEAST THE BASILISK IS DEAD." he pointed out, trying to appease his fellow Slytherin.

" _Its master_ _isn't."_ reminded Nathaniel somberly.

* * *

"Master." whimpered a heavily bleeding Quirinus Quirrell, dragging himself back to his room. "Wha… what was that?"

The DADA Professor had been on the third floor, attempting to reach the Philosopher's stone, when those unexpected noises had destabilized him at the worst possible moment. His right arm had been caught in between the jaws of an extremely annoyed Cerberus and basically shredded. A few of his ribs had also been broken when the dumb beast had thrown him into a wall.

He'd barely escaped with his life.

"Master?" tried Quirrell again, distressed by the absence of response to his first inquiry. "Master?!"

But his pleas went unanswered, his puppeteer way too weakened by the state of his marionette.

* * *

"Found them!" called Forge, indicating a group of names that had just popped up on the Marauders' Map.

"About time!" exclaimed Gred. "The Hufflepuff dorms? You recon they're done for the night?"

"Looks like it, they just dropped Tonks." replied his brother, as two of the names vanished, leaving the Metamorphmagus alone in what had to be her bedroom.

The Weasleys shifted their attention to the Slytherin common room and waited for the two firsties to appear.

A minute passed… then another one… and another –

"I look up from the dungeons" sighed one of the twin.

"and I look down from the upper floors." tiredly concurred the other. "You know, I think Potter's doing this on purpose."

"… he'd better not be."

* * *

In a burst of flames, several beings materialized on the forbidden third floor.

"Where are we this time?" sighed Daphne, holding a trembling rooster and seriously wondering when this crazy night would finally be over.

"Third floor." answered Harry in a concerned voice, looking past his housemate with empty eyes.

The witch looked back and gasped in a mixture of surprise, fear and disgust.  
An imposing door, probably designed to hold back some sort of massive creature, was ajar and splattered with blood. Scarlet trails were flowing out of the opening and covering the entire hallway, reaching for the nearby staircase.

"What happened here?" asked the nervous witch.

Instead of answering, the wizard threw the door open, revealing a massive three-headed dog right behind it. Its fur was visibly drenched in blood and a few ribbons of shredded fabric were hanging from one of its jaws.

"Fawkes." called out the wizard.

The phoenix seemed to know what was expected of him and began to fly around the room, singing. Daphne felt slightly better, hearing that mesmerizing melody. Seeing the massive Cerberus suddenly falling asleep was also a great thing for her heart rate and she managed to speak, albeit arduously.

"That's… a Cerberus."

"Daphne, Fluffy." introduced Harry, already inspecting the massive dog to localize possible injuries.

" _This_ is your aunt's dog?" asked the girl sarcastically, pointing a delicate finger at the slobbering beast.

"It's Hagrid's." admitted the wizard before sighing in relief. "I can't find any wound, it's just Quirrell's blood."

The blonde looked at him quizzically.

"Professor Quirrell? That's _his_ blood?"

" _Probably lost a limb or two."_ smirked Nathaniel.

It was a rather out-of-place reaction… except that Harry was smiling too.

"Do we… help him?" hesitated Daphne.

Harry's wand was out instantly.

"No." growled the wizard, his green eyes colder than she'd ever seen them. "We're taking that bastard down."

* * *

Finding Quirrell was easy, they just had to follow the arrow… huh, the blood.

The man had dragged himself to his apartments, leaving crimson prints on every surface along the way. When they discovered him, he was trying to cure himself, casting a constant stream of poorly-executed healing spells to mend his gaping wounds.

"Only a shredded arm?" commented Harry, startling the sobbing teacher. "Too bad."

"Potter?" squeaked – actually _squeaked!_ – the man.

"Hello Professor."

He leveled his wand and cast the _Blood Fluidifying Curse._

"Goodbye Professor."

* * *

"Oh, come on!" swore Forge as yet another name disappeared from the map. "A teacher now?"

* * *

Severus Snape was concerned… extremely concerned, in fact.

When those horrible noises had been heard earlier at dinner, he'd immediately understood that that fool Quirinus was behind it, using the phenomenon as a distraction to reach the Stone.

It was a sound plan too. With Albus trying to maintain calm and the other professors attempting to locate the origin of the shrieks, the third floor was left unprotected and the Potion Master had had to discreetly exit the Great Hall to investigate the forbidden corridor himself.

He'd found blood.

It was quite literally all over the place, but the Cerberus didn't seem hurt in the slightest. Reassured that his _colleague_ had been unable to progress further than the first room, Severus had then followed the bloody trails which, unsurprisingly, had led him straight to the DADA classroom.

He'd barged in, wand at the ready to defeat that greedy thief… but Quirrell was already dead, his body horribly lacerated by the guardian dog.

But the man's slow and painful demise was overall unimportant, what really concerned him was that annoying feeling that he was missing something… something important.

As he left the room, a mouse squeaked from underneath a piece of furniture.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Slytherin common room, two first-years, an old hat and a phoenix materialized in a blaze.

"Thanks Fawkes, I owe you one." smiled Harry, petting the majestic bird.

His answer came in the form of a contented thrill and a burst of fire, the Headmaster's companion flaming back to his office.

"We're back in the common room." observed Daphne, still clearly dazed despite the more familiar setting. "And you let the phoenix go, so… we're done?"

"We are."

" _No more gallivanting around the castle, hunting monsters_ _and_ _murdering people."_ smirked Nathaniel. _"_ _Not in the near future anyway."_

The witch visibly relaxed, as if an incommensurable burden had been lifted off her shoulders. Eyes closed, she took a deep breath and… slapped her housemate, twice.

"… I probably deserved that.".

Daphne didn't look like the sort of person who would resort to physical violence, but he supposed that he _had_ pushed her pretty far.

"That was for involving me in a _bloody murder!_ " snarled the blonde. "Now will you two morons take five minutes to tell me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON or do I have to hex the truth out of you?"

"You do know Tonks will want to hear this, right? And that I hate to repeat myself?"

Two steel-gray eyes glared at him.

"… fine." complied the wizard. "Long story short, Quirrell was possessed by Tom Riddle."

"Who?"

"Voldemort." he revealed. "That thing you saw coming out of Quirrell was a shade of his."

The girl blinked once.

Twice.

And started to massage her brow.

"Okay, Voldemort was our DADA Professor." she sighed, remembering that her friend had suspected the teacher for weeks. "What was he doing on the third floor corridor? Why would he willingly face a Cerberus?"

"He was trying to steal an item that Fluffy is guarding for the Headmaster." answered the wizard. "And I'm not telling you what, because it's none of your business… or mine, for that matter."

"… fine, but why today? Why precisely on Samhain? Is… Tom, really that rancorous?"

" _HE_ IS!" replied both wizard and hat.

"O~kay?" blinked Daphne, somewhat surprised by the statement. "And the basilisk?"

"Just a diversion to occupy the staff elsewhere, Voldy heard about Tonks waiting alone in the dungeons and asked his pet to take her down. That's what it claimed anyway."

"Right, you talked with it. And before that, you heard it through the walls." she recalled. "But you only heard hissing, parseltongue, right? How could you know it was a basilisk?"

"Its voice was deep, almost deafening." replied Harry. "It had to be something massive and a basilisk matched the profile. Also, Nat told me."

" _Salazar's_ _Chamber_ _may not be tied to the_ _castle's_ _main ward scheme, but its entrance_ _s are_ _."_ explained Nathaniel at the witch inquisitive look. _"_ _The b_ _east_ _registered on it the instant it left its lair._ _"_

"Which is how you located the Chamber." she falsely assumed. "And the Headmaster wasn't notified?"

" _Albus's ties to the castle have always been a bit loose and there are many things he still hasn't learnt. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but he is no Ward Master."_ replied the hat. _"The flaming chicken was notified though."_

"Aaand now I want fried chicken." groaned Harry, empty stomach rumbling. "Loopy."

Daphne yelped and made a most graceful little jump when a house elf answered the wizard 's call.

"Harry Potter called Loopy?"

"I did." he smiled. "I'm not exactly comfortable with Halloween and would like to avoid the Great Hall altogether. Could you be a dear and bring my friend and I a little something to eat? Perhaps some fried chicken?"

"Loopy can." nodded the elf, vanishing in a pop.

"I swear you're going to give me a heart-attack one of this days, Potter." lamented the witch, holding her hands to her chest. "I just know it."


End file.
